Secrets and Whispered Confessions
by Unyielding Wish
Summary: Rin's a girl from a lonely mountain villa. Len's a boy from the soot-stained cities. Rin is lively and energetic, while Len has little hope in living. They meet because of a friend who is bringing Len medicine. Will a series of unusual events change their feelings about each other? RinLen [Complete]
1. Rin I

**It took me a while to muster up my courage to publish this thing. Thanks to **_xXMrs. RaymondXx__ , _**and **_ravenbynight._** ravenbynight gave me permission to use the "Rin I", "Len I" idea. :) And xXMrs. RaymondXx provided inspiration for this story.****  
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**Of course I thank all of my followers too! XD It must be annoying to keep getting FanFiction PMs like this. Now, on with the story! kthnxbai~  
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**Rin I**

_Hello. My name is Rin. Let's start with a simple introduction._

_I live in someplace you've probably never given a second thought in your life._

_I like things that you may deem as strange or weird._

_I love someone who you believe is simply a failure at living._

_Sounds like a typical sappy fairy tale, right?_

_Only if you choose to think of it that way._

_.:. A fresh breeze whispers its way across the grassy meadow. The smell of fresh-cut grass to be set in the barn to make hay still lingers in the air. The sun is on the verge of rising to noon-mark. Looking down, I see my shadow much taller than I, and I wish for a moment that I would be as tall as my shadow is now… .:._

Everyone keeps their secrets. You, me, Father, Mother, my sister, my brother, the soapwort flower, the heavy, drenching rains that come yearly to give the plants their feed, and much else. As we move along in life, we may drop some secrets and acquire others. It's a normal process of life, nothing to wonder or worry about. Our personalities change. Our heights change. Our looks change. It's nothing much to speak about.

For example, that calm goat chewing its cud you see over there may be a rampaging monster when he sees another goat messing with his loved one. These tiny shoots of grass down here may suddenly lose their determination to grow and wilt of their own accord. My neighbor, who lives a mile away, may be robbing passersby on his spare time. And that dignified lady over there, sitting on the bench…who knows, maybe she was once an unruly, wild girl like I am, curious about every little thing in the universe and often getting in trouble with her folks for doing so.

Alright, stop staring at me. I'm kidding. I don't read brains; I don't know anybody's secrets any more than you do.

Except for my own.

Up until now, I've always thought there was no problem in creating a secret. It's simply a part of you that's shrouded and obscured with your secure blessings. Or so I thought.

There was this one secret kept from me, that I managed to pry out from protective fingers.

What I didn't think was that that secret is enough to harm everyone around me.

—~'~—

Sooner or later, in your life, you'll find love. Love is a precious thing, a single piece of sparkling gold in the midst of so much sickening pyrite. In fact, you may go through several persons until you find your soulmate.

Or sometimes, you acquire your soulmate at first glance; you just don't know it or you don't want to admit it.

Trust me, I know. I know because I've been through it.

I'm sure you've had enough of my constant chatter about nonsense already. Maybe you'd like, for compensation for your time and entertainment, to hear my story.

—~'~—

In stories you hear, most nights are silent, but there's a big motive dwelling in its depths. A secret murderer hiding in a bunch of lilacs, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, maybe. Or maybe a princess on the run, using her skills to be as quiet as the night.

It's not true in real life, actually.

The night is alive with sounds. Crickets chirp, raccoons scuffle about, the house creaks.

The only reason why I experience a close-to-silent night is thanks to my height off the flat ground. I live in the mountains. The air's fresh up here, and rarely none living spare themselves the climb. The only sounds I hear are of Father's snores and Mother's muted breathing, and perhaps our kitten Iana***** prowling around for mountain mice to catch.

If you happen to be in our house and look out the east window, you can see another mountain's twin peaks piercing the sky. We call that mountain Montem Decus******. In the very early morning, a shroud of gray mist always surrounds the peaks and gives it a mysterious feeling. It's only until the orange sun rises that the fog is burned away and the twin peaks are unveiled. I never get tired of looking at the magnificent sunrises; it's almost as if it's created by the spirits' light themselves, the sun's rays spilling over the horizon and illuminating the land soft saffron.

But right now it's the night. Sleeping is troublesome for me. As a child I've always been afraid of the dark, and the darkness makes me think of frightening things. Even though I'm already thirteen, and turning fourteen the end of the year, my thoughts in the night are no different. For every shadow made in the dark, every snuffling sound that finds its way to my ears, another spark of fear ignites in my stomach.

I sleep on the floor. Sure, it's cold and hard, but sometimes it feels _alive_. It's these times that I feel comfort. I tap the floor now, hoping that some warmth will take over the cold fear that's burning for a while now. Behind the thin screen, I can see Father's shadow cast by the moonlight, his strong, tall form moving up and down with each breath. I can just make out the blurry outline of Mother's hair from behind him, her petite form moving too, but not as much.

"It's all right, it's all right," I whisper. "Nobody's out there to get you…" Just as the phrase falls from my lips, I suddenly feel a warm, furry body cuddle up to me.

I freeze, and the hairs on my arm prickle. Slowly, I turn toward the figure; just then, the moon shines a sliver of its light across the floorboard, and I see pale, platinum fur and a pair of sky blue eyes, the same as mine, staring back at me.

_It's only Iana._ I breathe a sigh of relief and comb my hands through her fur. She purrs softly.

As my fingers detect every small, tangled strand of Iana's fur and work it loose, my mind wanders elsewhere. Images flicker through my mind as my eyes remain still, fixed to the ceiling. I'm seeing images of towns, regal columns made from solid white marble, quaint brick and whitewashed houses, thin wire of the purest and softest gold spun from hand, children shouting and playing, palaces…Anywhere my imagination takes me.

It's like this that I fall asleep into the dream that I would someday be able to see what town living feels like.

—~'~—

As it turns out, that day comes sooner than I think.

Didn't I say before that the sunrise here is wonderful? Well, it is. I watch the night sky give way to the sun. It's a mixture of perfect colors, in sync with each other and moving every second. The sun's light almost seems to _slice_ the mountains; a few thin rays escape and…It's hard to describe, but it's like light piercing darkness. Colors are skillfully woven about. The dark, opaque shape of the twin peaks at this time of the day resembles darkness and the light is like…Good triumphs over evil?

"Rin," Father calls from inside. I turn to see him holding out a bucket to me. "Go fill that in the well," he instructs me. I know better than to complain, but I don't like being interrupted when beholding a magnificent view.

I take the bucket from him and I start the walk toward the well. It's not long. It's simply this dusty road, cut in because of our frequent visits. The well is constructed out of stone—Father and our neighbor made it. We go there to get our water almost every day, because fresh water is not for storing; it's for drinking.

There's a thick, braided rope for the bucket to hang on as it descends its journey down to the depth below. All I have to do is to hook the bucket onto the rope and wait. A simple splash would announce the bucket hitting water; it would become much heavier and take much more energy to haul up once more.

—~'~—

Usually when people succumb to a certain feeling you can tell by the way they act, their expressions, and other signs. After many years of being frustrated by Father's stonelike mask, I realized how to tell by simple little signals that he was annoyed or happy. For example, his mouth twitches when he's trying to hide joy, and there's a strange light in his eyes when he's infuriated. It's actually easy to tell, if you get it.

So right now, when Father's sitting across from me with a stoic expression, I can tell that he has some good news behind his back, waiting for the correct moment to pour out.

Mother's at the edge of her chair. Apparently she had noticed Father's signs too. She's excited; that familiar nervous energy vibrates off of every muscle in her body. My brother has caught on quite quickly, too; he's looking expectantly at Father.

Only my blunt sister Lily is still fiddling with her hands.

Father takes a deep gulp of well water, and keeps drinking until the cup is dry. He holds it to Mother, who nods and fills it to the brim with some well water in her stone pitcher. He drinks again, this time more slowly, and sets the glass onto the table with a _thunk_.

"Hurry up, Papa," says Lily, realizing why everyone is acting so strangely. Mother frowns.

"That is no way to talk to your father. He is excited about the news, and it is he who chooses whether or not to speak. Would you talk like this to your suitor, too?"

Lily scowls. She's pretty, with a curtain of glistening blonde hair falling like a waterfall down her back. Her eyes are a deep blue, much like Mother's. The only problem with her is that she's too obstinate, and if you are to ask for Mother's opinion, she'd say that Lily would never acquire a suitor this way.

But in fact, she's attracted quite a lot of young men all around the mountain with her beauty.

"Rin," Father suddenly says. "Are you with us?"

I gulp and sit up straighter. "Yes – yes, Father."

"I was just saying," Father continues, "that we would be going to the town."

A collective gasp runs from one end of the table to another. Because we're nestled up high in the mountains, we don't have access to many things. Town means fine silk and rich brocade. Town means salted pork and aged, storemade cheese. And more to the children than anything else—town means toys. Toys all shapes and sizes, found in a woodcarver's shop or a steel-molder's store. Immediately, questions and comments are aroused: "Which town?"; "What should we buy there?"; "We've run out of a lot of thread; just look at Rin's shabby frock", and so much else.

Father clears his throat and holds up a finger. Questions cease, commenters fall silent. "Don't think I'm going alone," he begins, and pauses to take a sip of his water. "We're going with Haku."

—~'~—

I'm sure I've mentioned my neighbor before. His name is Dell Honne, and living with him is Haku Yowane. She's a widow who's lost her married family some twenty years earlier due to plague, and is Dell's sister. She eventually moved back with him two years ago. Since then, she's educated herself with the arts of medication and acupuncture, hoping for one day to conquer all diseases that dare to strike her and the only family left.

Haku's not bad, really. I've never really met her, so I can't be sure. But I've seen a few glimpses of her when she's walking around to gather plants and herbs. Her hair is practically white; there are some silvery strands of gray in there, spaced far apart and giving it a shimmery feeling when the sun shines on it. Haku's eyes are really a chestnut color, but they shine red when the sun's in her eyes' way of seeing. She usually keeps her hair in a tight ponytail just at the nape of her neck. Mother says Haku's not as old as she looks—it's only because of the tragedies in her life—but now and then I can't help but wonder about it.

So when Father says "Haku", immediately, the whole table falls silent.

None of us know her quite as well enough as Father. Mother doesn't usually associate with her, Lily believes that she's just trying to attract attention, Oliver (my younger brother) is quite afraid of her, and I don't know what to think.

"I suppose you'll just go with her," Mother sighs finally, running a hand through her thick indigo hair. "Surely there can't be some other way…?"

Father lays a hand onto Mother's arm. "Aoki," he says, with a rare gentleness, "Haku isn't as bad as you think."

Mother frowns. "I do not think lowly of Haku-san. I simply believe that she should marry another if her husband dies. What harm is there…?"

"You have never been in the pain Haku has been, and it's safe to say I haven't either. We both cannot say."

"Still, but I don't…" Mother frowns.

"It's all settled then," Father interrupts. "I will take a daughter to come and fare with me. Oliver, I'm sorry." He turns and smiles sympathetically at Oliver. "You have to stay home with your mother to help with the chores—she has to have a young man at hand at times." Oliver cracks a weak smile, but that's it.

Father turns back to us, looking at us in the eye. "Who wants to go?" he asks Lily and I.

There's a fiery spark in Lily's eyes. Her back is rigid, her mouth set in a thin, defiant line. Her hands were folded tightly on her lap, and she stared ahead without a word.

"Oh, I don't…Lily?" Mother asks gently.

"I don't like it," says Lily simply.

"Like what?"

"The town." She turns her eyes away, which I was shocked to discover is brimming with tears.

"Alright," Father says, even though he doesn't sound sure. "Rin? Are you coming with me? Rin Kagamina?" I blink and look up at him.

"Take care," Mother says. "Fare well on the journey."

Father accepts the coat she's holding out to him. "And you too, fare well at home." He kisses her lightly on the cheek, then turns to me. "Aoki Lapis, she needs a new coat."

Mother turns and scrutinizes me, brushing her thick indigo-violet bangs out of her eyes, which are a rich sea green. She crosses her arms and looks for a long while, before nodding and sighing. "You're right. She does."

"Should I stay home?" I ask.

Mother shakes her head. "No. I suppose I'll lend you mine." Her coat is a pearl white, and it has neat, small golden buckles that could be undone easily even by frozen fingers. She got it when Father went on an expedition some time before, and cherishes it greatly. I don't even want to touch it; it's that perfect, and if I do, I'm afraid I'll ruin something.

She must have noticed the look on my face. "It's alright, Rin. Take it."

I nod my thanks and slip on the coat; it's delightfully warm. Lily shrugs and begins to eat.

—~'~—

The mud is soft under my toes. My knees are digging into the fresh soil which already has tender grass shoots sprouting from it. I pick a wild daisy; its petals are thin and easily see-through, but it's a tough species. A wind suddenly blows and the petals of the daisy snap off and get carried away. I'm left with a bald center and a pinched, thin stem which has purple marks where I held it.

Sometimes I'm afraid my relatives will fly off, just like that.

Father, Mother, Oliver, and Lily.

Those are the only relatives I know.

I hum a tune to myself as I drop the broken daisy and pick a new one. Dell is up the hill, talking to Father, and Haku must be inside. Therefore, I'm all surprise when a shadow of a tall woman falls over me.

Haku takes a seat next to me. "Beautiful flower, isn't it?" she asks, gesturing toward the flower.

"Y–yes," I stammer.

Haku doesn't say anything more. She simply picks another one. I'm even more surprised when she puckers her lips, closes her eyes, and blows the flowers the way she would a dandelion. The petals fly off the opposite direction they did mine, and seemingly disappear into the sun, shining brightly in the sharp blue sky.

"Why did you do that?" I ask.

"Don't you know?" Haku turns to me; now it's her turn surprised. "It is believed that every daisy's petals you blow off, you are granted a wish."

"You are?"

Haku nods, looking at her naked stem. "My brother never liked those myths, though. He preferred the reality…the raw reality." She tosses her stem somewhere far away, the poor thin thing spinning around and around in the air before landing someplace over the hill. "I liked to imagine. Since you don't know about this, I would guess your father was the same…?"

Now that I think about it, I really don't know. I shrug.

Haku glances at me. "I know that your mother is not from this mountain, and this daisy here"—she gestures toward a small patch of them, a few feet away from us—"grows only on this mountain. Not much are willing to risk the journey upwards." She laughs. "If there was any legend, the attitude your father has…she would not know."

"You don't know much about her," I blurt, then cover my mouth. Oops. I shouldn't be speaking. I'm just the same about Haku.

And surely enough, she replies, "I don't know much about you, either."

There is a silence as the wind ruffles the grass as a loving uncle would to his niece's hair. In the distance, tall pine trees pierce the skies, Montem Decus's twin peaks along with them. There's nothing to behold for a citygoer. Simply miles and miles of grass, rough terrain, mud, forested areas, or some out of the four. But for us mountain folks…Each breath the mountain takes shudders with life.

Near the pine trees I can see goats nipping at the pines' lowermost branches. There is the faint, fuzzy outline of a boy along with them. I can see shadows etched upon the grass as well. Every little thing on here…it's wondrous.

"This place is beautiful, isn't it?" Haku asks in a low voice.

"How do you know what I'm thinking?" I demand, turning to her before realizing that that might have sounded rude.

"How could I not? Your eyes are a very clear window to your soul."

I open my mouth to respond when I realize there's nothing to say about it. I clamp my mouth shut, with a sheepish, "Yes, you're right." Haku doesn't respond at that. She only stands up and shades her eyes as she skeptically views the landscape.

"Back when I lived in the city, we lived close enough to each other that it was less than a one-minute walk from one house to the other. But here…" She frowns, and speaks as if she's talking to herself. "Here, we have to walk more than thirty minutes if we are to go for help. Fifteen at least if we're using horses. We have to fend for ourselves in this mountain climate. I can't say I'm particularly disappointed in this, but sometimes I long for the company of others."

"I see," I say softly.

"There was a woman in the town I lived in, too," Haku continues. "Her name was Miku; she had a son a few years back, about the same age as you—how old are you?"

"Thirteen."

"That's right, her son is turning fourteen next month. Always a sickly boy." Haku clucks her tongue. "So she sent me a letter some months ago, talking about my medicines. Since I can't hire anyone on this mountain to make the trip for me, I have to go myself, except Dell has to tend the goats here, and my skills at driving a wagon are not very good, though I can. So Dell called your father here." Haku shrugs and takes a seat again. "You'll get to meet the boy. He's at the worst of his sickness so far, and he's kept in a medical room, but I believe you'll like him."

The unneeded information makes me sort of nervous. I don't know what to expect, but I should _like him_? Like, as in what? Fall in love, or just be friends? I laugh slightly. Being friends with a boy…it's a weird thought to hold onto. Since I don't see much boys my age on this mountain—Oliver is too young—I really can't imagine how it's like.

Father calls us from up the hill.

"Are you coming or not?" Haku asks, rising to her feet. I nod and wrap Mother's jacket more tightly around me, hurrying up the hill after her.

—~'~—

"Well, take care," Dell says as he piles a few blankets onto Haku's lap.

"Honestly, Dell, we don't need these," Haku says, giving them back to him. "We're just on a little three-day trip; it's not like we'll—it's not like I'm going to be marrying again." Dell frowns at that, and hands the blankets back to her.

"It gets cold down there. So these are just for you to stay warm."

"We're higher in altitude than them," Haku says, rolling her eyes, tossing the blankets to him. "How could it be _colder_ down there than here?"

"Just…I don't like it. You already lost your family once, and people there are vicious. Did you hear that Luka was burned at the stake because she was criticized a witch? Oh, right, you don't know, because you weren't there. Luka was visiting an old friend of hers, and then a young man fell in love with him—Gakupo is his name, I recall—but someone was jealous, and she went up in flames that way." Dell's voice is bitter, but it becomes tender every time he says Luka. "Haku, just…take these blankets, please."

Haku is quiet for a moment, before she sighs and finally succumbs to Dell. "Alright, Dell. Take care while I'm gone."

"Right," says Dell. Their eyes meet for a split second, before Dell turns away and Haku averts her eyes. He goes back up the hill, as Father snaps the whip. Soon, I find myself clinging for my life to the back of the wagon as we fly down the hill.

In a day, I'll be seeing my first glimpse of the town at the foot of this mountain. A feeling of excitement rises in me, rearing and snapping at my insides.

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*** - My deprivation of IA. Yeah, she's a cat here. XD  
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**** - "Mount beauty" in Latin. Yupppp, Google Translate.  
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**Updates here will be _really_ slow. I think. I have a GakuLuka story begging me to publish it, and a MikuKai one as well, and I'm still handling _BTAOET_. I don't- I really don't- know where I'm going with this. Heck, I didn't even plan out the ending yet, nor the main plot of the story. I suppose it'll come clear to me a few chapters into the story. Read and review!  
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**~Unyielding Wish  
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	2. Len I

**I'm a terrible person. D: I haven't updated in such a long time... Well, enjoy!  
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**Len I**

_I'm Len Kagamine._

_I've always been quite weak for someone my age._

_I grew up in a family where secrets were not shared and a cold, forbidding air hung over every family gathering._

_I hope you won't be the same._

_/ It's really quiet in this room. A breeze ruffles the startlingly white curtains, blowing the fresh spring air gently at my face. I raise my eyes to look at the children playing outside; they don't even miss me, as they frolic and dance about. A feeling of loneliness gnaws at my chest. _\\\

The outside world is filled of many wonders and surprises. So many scientific discoveries, new remedies, and everything…It must be so fun to be a part in that, in the pleasure of a new, more improved result. Every day there is more news; however small accomplishments may be, like a neighbor getting rid of an annoying suitor. Most of the time, this news is very intriguing—I normally hear it from the women who gossip out of my window, believing that I'm too weak to decipher what they're saying. They have a way of making everything sound interesting. It hurts, to not be able to be one of the children who would ogle the adults as they go about in their businesses.

I've been very weak in my entire life, spending most of it in a sickroom. The slightest wind can result in a vigorous coughing fit. A few degrees off what I'm able to tolerate, and I fall down with a fever. One blanket gone, I'm taken over with chills.

My mother is almost always busy, having to support her sickly son and get medicines for him, and earn a living for herself. I don't know why she doesn't throw me out to be a homeless child to roam the streets and die in a few days. She loves extravagant living; her father was once a rich merchant before he died at sea. Sending me away would save her a great deal of money.

And yet, every day I see her come home she has a new sack of remedies in her hand, smiling gently at me.

I wish I could be stronger and be proud that I'm still living, that I hung on for all the years I've lived.

But I'm not.

And I know she isn't, either, because she isn't granted the joy of seeing her son grow stronger; instead, every day she's burdened with the fact that he might be dying any day now.

—~'~—

I'm not even surprised when Mom walks in through the door without her daily groceries—which is mostly made of my medicine. Her pace is incredibly hurried, and breath shudders through her chest as she hurries to put her silken, laced brown umbrella away. Still, I can see the happiness dancing in her eyes; maybe she's excited that she's finally disposing at me at last?

But what she says is totally unexpected.

"Len, I asked Haku to bring better cures. Since the ones I've gotten so far don't seem to be any good—ever since Haku left, you've been getting worse—I've contacted her. She should arrive tomorrow."

"Haku?" I repeat.

"Len, don't tell me you've forgot already." Mom frowns disapprovingly and adjusts her brown veil—she wears it on her hair, and it matches her umbrella; she's been dressing in brown and black ever since Da' died. "Haku is our neighbor, remember? The gray-haired woman whose family died of the epidemic last year, the horrible plague that left you weaker than ever. _Remember_?"

It takes me a while, but I remember. My thoughts and memories are muddled up, and sometimes I can't distinguish which from which.

"She moved up into the mountains, right?"

Mom nods and smiles. "Her great cures should be even better, after being refreshed in the mountain air, not this sooty town air." She laughs brightly, the sound a slight tinkle. "So hang in there, Len, until the next morning. She's been quite fond of you ever since you were born."

That's because Mom often repeats the story of how Haku helped her give birth to me; "or else," she'd say, "You would have died."

I lean back against the pillows. "Well, okay."

Mom pats my arm. "You'll be fine, Len. You're just too pessimistic to come to the fact."

—~'~—

Mom's excited. She's pacing back and forth, not able to sleep. A candle is in her hand; her teal hair flows over her back, as she parades up and down the stairs in her black silk nightgown, laced carefully by skillful hands with patterns of white silk—the only she'd ever wear, she told me, after Da's death. In any case, I can't sleep with her like this, but I don't blame her excitedness. Tomorrow morning Mom would go to the entrance to this town—the only entrance—and meet her old friend.

The curtains are drawn over the window, which is my only way to find out news from the outside, but I can still see the faint glow of the moon slicing across the night sky. It's quiet, if my mother's thumping around isn't mentioned.

"Aren't you happy, Len?" Mom asks me. "After all, Haku took care of you ever since you were a baby, while I was gone…"

I shrug. I don't know her that well. Maybe Mom would, but Haku…she rarely speaks, and is awkward to associate with when I'm feeling under the weather. I could only sit on my bed with a wide-eyed gaze as she moves around, doing things that Mom would usually do if she was home. It makes me feel pretty useless, and although I know Haku would never blame anyone but herself, I feel bad for that.

"I'm fine, I guess," I say softly.

Mom notices this and nods. She snuffs out the candle and pulls up my covers, pecking my cheek. "Have a nice sleep, Len."

—~'~—

I arouse myself on my own accord in the morning. My vision is fuzzy, and I could barely see anything but the blur of gray that slips into my vision. When it finally clears, I'm aware of the storm the birds are chirping up. There's a small elm tree just outside my window, when Haku planted it a few years ago. It grows slowly, but I can just see a fat blue jay perched on it, singing all by itself. Its melodious chirps carry its song far and away, as if the song is an airy river of gold and the harmonious chirps are the wings that make it fly up, up into the sky. I don't bother turning my head; I lie there, in the peaceful moments just before dawn breaks across the flat gray sky, forever stained with the dust in the air. The sunrises here aren't even pretty; they're simply pastel colors, even more faint because of the thick layer of soot. There's no point in rising early just to behold them. It's coming onto the sky now, the pale ugly colors falling through the thin curtains and landing on the snow-white blankets. Shadows of the windowpanes fitted together cuts the irregular light of the sunrise into neat squares. Upon waking, I'm aware that my joints are sore. They always are, in the mornings; sometimes I feel like an old man. The colors on my blankets don't help it one bit.

I shift myself on my bed. I'm not sure if I can even walk anymore, but I'm curious if my mother is on her way.

As soon as I'm able to sit upright, my spine suddenly gives way and I fall, defeated, back onto the mattress. It's happened several times now. I don't like looking like an imbecile in bed—sometimes children even come and tease me, even though they're several years younger than me—so that's why I try to curtain the windows as thickly as I could, but I still like seeing the outside world.

My two differing opinions make me torn.

Still, it's strange that I'd worry about a _window_ when there are much deeper things in life.

I just can't reach it; it's painfully out of my weak grasp.

I turn my head slightly now, more fluidly since I can't hear the joint crack. Yes, there the colors are—still shining on the sky. It's too calm, too little contrast, for my taste. Everything about my life is dull. I watch as the shadow of a woman in a bonnet hurries out, bucket in hand, to some distant well that is not polluted. Aah, not easy to find. She'd have better luck trying to digest the grimy water sold in the stores.

Where do _I_ get my water? I really don't know, but I'm sure it's not from the wells, nor is it from the store. Either that, or Mom has to handpick the dirt particles out of it.

I don't like the thought of that.

But where _is_ she? I haven't heard her…

Maybe Mom is out fetching Haku. But this early in the morning? Why? I listen some more; yet I still cannot hear Mom. I heave a sigh, and look out the window again, thoroughly lonesome. Ever since Haku had not been able to babysit me anymore, I've always been incredibly lonely. I would inch through the day alone, without anyone to speak to or share interests with. Dull as Haku may seem, she could be a great listener.

My eyes hurt.

It's strange how they hurt. Just…pure pain radiating from my eyes, not with any irritation or anything. It's throbbing, not sharp. I want to clutch my head in my hands, but I can't.

It's another part of my illness, chipping away at yet another part of my life.

There's no escape from it all. No escape from reality, no escape to the dreams, no nothing.

Just me.

And my weak body.

As I think these thoughts, I usually slip almost unconsciously into sleep. It's a natural phase of my deliriousness when I'm sick (which I usually always am). I only feel my eyelids drooping, and then the darkness wraps around me like a warm blanket. My mind drifts off restlessly, visions with sharp cutting edges jutting around in my head. And then I would sleep, the length of my unconsciousness varying; sometimes I would wake up a minute or two after, and sometimes almost eight hours. Either way, I almost always wake up with the bedsheets drenched in sweat, so violently that it takes quite some time for my heartbeat to slow down to a comfortable pace.

In time, I've grown to recognize the signs that make this.

So when my body starts to relax, but muscles still stay rigid, I know I'm going to sleep. And perhaps die in my sleep.

I don't. I won't. I'm not. I'm not afraid of it.

In fact, I welcome it almost every time I get this feeling in my bones. _Maybe today would be the day I would finally say my goodbye to the cruel world. _Maybe today I could step onto a spiral of marble stairs, making my way up to the great place everyone goes to after they die, and fly into my dead relatives' open arms. Perhaps I can live on, without worrying about my terribly weak body anymore. Leave my mom forever. That'd be desirable, right?

I never cease to ponder these thoughts the first time I recognize these signs. I would stare out the window, and think, simply _think_, until my thoughts feel rough and grating and jarring, like a hoarse throat in need of cough syrup. Then my body would collapse, and I would drift off.

I'm not sure how long I slept, but I can feel Mom's breath tickling my ear and footsteps and unfamiliar voices and sounds. I jerk upright, but almost immediately fall back onto the pillows again, defeated by my unused muscles. _Haku's here. They're here. _I blink several times before my vision adjusts; I make out a tall white-haired woman's figure, a blond man standing next to her, and a rather short blonde girl next to him, clutching his hand. Her gaze is fixed firmly on me, and she has a look of honest curiosity on her face. What? Are mountain folk this mannerless that—

It's this time that I realize I didn't even bother to tie my hair into the ponytail I would wear at the base of my neck. I blush to the roots of my hair when I realize I must look so much like a girl. Yes, that's probably why she's staring at me. My hair makes me look so girly, accompanied by my unusually soft, extremely pale skin (due to never working in the fields, or being beaten down by the sun) and large green eyes that are features normally reserved for girls.

I haven't been with company for a long time, so I'm not sure what to say or, if a thought comes to mind, how to say it.

Instead, the blonde man nudges his daughter, and she steps forward timidly. Offering her hand to me. I stare at it, not sure what to do; before remembering that it's for shaking, not for pulling me out of bed. I feel a flush rise onto my cheeks another time, and I shake it timidly.

Her strong grip is the complete opposite of mine. My unexercised hand muscles make my hand limp in hers. Surprise crosses her face a second time.

I've probably embarrassed Mom to no end by now.

But instead of blushing furiously like I am now, Mom smiles radiantly at Haku, the blonde man, and the girl. "It's so nice of you to come here and bring medicine! A treat. Len, say hello," she instructs me. I shrink away; it comes to me almost on instinct. But Mom and the rest of the people in my room are waiting for me to say something, anything.

"Hello," I whisper. It's a lot of change from what tone I use to speak with Mom. When I talk with Mom, I speak casually, my voice rising up and down on the notes. But when I talk with them…It shocks even myself. I suddenly turn into a wild dog cowering in the shadows, hiding from the people who are chasing him, trying to hide with soft whimpers of fear. Why am I scared of them? They're just…they're just _people_, like you and I. What's there to be afraid of? But I still feel too timid for me to voice aloud. I look at their faces; indifference on Haku's, since she already knows my name. The blonde man nods curtly, and the girl is looking at me, curiosity not gone, as if willing me to push further. "I'm Len Kagamine," I add quickly, in case they need my name a second time.

Surprise flickers across the man's face now. "Funny. Our family name is Kagamina. I'm Leon." He shakes my hand; his grip is commanding, unlike the girl's, which lets me do whatever I want, pretty much. His eyes are a deep olive, his hair a platinum blonde, almost silver, but still noticeably blonde. His hand is rough, scarred from years of work. I suddenly feel very lonely and left out; since he is shocked, too, to feel the softness of my hand.

"In any case," he says, "call me Leon. My daughter Rin is here," and the little blonde girl smiles.

Mom nods and smiles too. "I'm Miku Hatsune. It's a pleasure to meet you, Leon and Rin. Len knows Haku already"; her eyes have a tender look in them, in thanks for Haku's deeds. Haku does a small, short wave, as if to say, _Don't mention it. _"In any case, do you want to join me for a glass of wine in the living room? Len, you may come if you want…" Her eyes now harbor a bit of worry, for she knows that it's not easy for me to stand up on my feet at all. "I have gingerbread, too, for Rin," she adds, swerving around to aim a friendly smile at Rin. "What do you say? Len?"

"I'll stay here," I volunteer.

"That's alright. Now, Haku, Leon, Rin?"

"Rin, you want to join…?"

Said girl shrugs. "Well, I kinda want to enjoy the view out the window here…" This day is full of surprises. What's there to see outside the window?

Leon looks hesitantly at his daughter.

"I'm fine," she insists. He sighs and turns back to Haku and Mom.

"Is there anything dangerous in this room…? Rin's quite adventurous…"

Mom shakes her head. "No, the drawers are empty. I put there for show." I know that isn't true; she put it there when she thought she'd have a healthy boy that would outgrow his clothes often. But now…it _is_ kind of for show, because I don't need much except for some of the clothing sick people wear.

"Father, I'm not a baby," Rin says, sounding kind of annoyed. "I'm not stupid and I know what stuff is dangerous and what is not." Leon simply shakes his head.

"Well, I'll take your word for that, then. I would like a glass of wine, yes. I haven't tasted good red wine in a long time."

"You know me," Haku says, and Mom smiles again, and leads them out of the room.

Once they're gone, Rin takes a casual seat at the end of my bed. Why is she doing that? Isn't she even worried she'd sit on my toes? But no, she isn't; the way she moves makes everything seem like she's sure about what she's doing. I can only stare at her from my corner of the bed, as she picks at her hair, glancing out the window, or just plain staring into blank silence.

"Why are you caged up like this?" she finally asks in that high, breathy voice.

I try to shrug, but it doesn't come easy for someone whose muscles have worn away. "I'm sick."

Her mouth forms a slight O. "All the time?"

"Pretty much." For some reason, I feel that a few words in exchange are enough, but apparently Rin doesn't think so. She begins chattering brightly about the town, how great it is, how wondrous the world is, what beauty there is, the things here that aren't there in the mountains, and asking me naïve, ignorant questions that I laugh to myself at. _Can you really buy toys at the shops? Are people really that talented to be able to find a way to make a loom? _Does she really not know the answers to those questions? Is there a point in asking, or is she just trying to make conversation?

"You look like a girl," Rin comments unexpectedly, and my breath catches in my throat, producing a slight hiccup. I shift my weight on the pillows, feeling a cooler spot I could lie on.

"Yes?" I say, not knowing what else to do.

She shrugs. "Back at my home in the mountains, every season Mother would cut Oliver's hair," she explains. "His hair…Well, it's kind of long since it grows pretty fast, but he looks like a man—…Did I offend you?" Rin asks worriedly, as I avert my eyes. "I mean, doesn't anyone cut your hair? It's shoulder length, and that's how long my hair is…Anyway, a few years ago Oliver injured his eye, so that's why he has to wear this bandage over it all the time. It looks like an eyepatch those pirates wear, except it's thicker."

Her words are constant and quick, and witty. Interesting few days this will be.

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**I had fun making Rin like this in this chapter~ X3**  
** Hopefully I didn't put any asterisks. I don't like reading back and then discovering that I didn't explain a reference I marked, and then I have to do the whole process over again. Read and review~  
**

**~Unyielding Wish  
**


	3. Rin II

**Wufiaywerijsnv,xnckasdfuoa; THIS WAS MOST RIDICULOUS. It took me about four days for a simple 2,000-word chapter. This might not be as great as it should, but at least it's an accomplishment. I was struggling throughout the entire chapter to write it decently enough... -.-;  
**

**This is starting to turn into a rant. D: Well, thank you all for favoriting, following, and/or reviewing so far~!  
**

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**Rin II**

_I met him on that day._

_I was promptly shocked at how weak and small he was._

_Nonetheless, the wonders of the town fascinated me, and I told him all about it._

_He seemed to be a bit distant, and he didn't even think it was marvelous at all, but he listened patiently anyway._

_.:. Before me, the golden sun dips down into a pool of brine, the thickly salted water making the sun's ugly reflection even grainier. Yet I can find beauty concealed in this; however, the boy standing next to me, his face masked in some way, does not. He turns away, his pace hurried. I run after him, but I can never catch up to him… .:. _

I could never forget the lovely sound of the wooden wheels of the wagon hitting and grinding the cobblestones beneath it, bumping along the uneven path. Haku didn't like it; the horses didn't like it; and Father didn't like it, but for some reason this feeling and sound thrilled me. It sent electric energy vibrating throughout my veins, and I was almost sorry to let it go when the huge metal arch loomed over us, announcing our arrival at the town, whose ground is dirt and wood. Superbia, if I remember correctly; it has such a nice ring to it, but Father said it means "vanity" in Latin, which is one of the seven sins, the rest being _luxuria, gula, acedia, invidia, avaritia, _and_ ira. _That didn't quite take from this town's imposing grandness, though.

We arrived at the town, and there was a teal-haired woman waiting for us.

She's quite queer. Her eyes had a friendly sparkle in them, but she was swathed in brown and black, like a widow. A silk brown bonnet was tied to her hand, anchoring her unruly hair in place. And she was brushing her hair out of her face the entire time, her wind-worn cheeks warm and red. When she saw us, she greeted Haku with kisses and hugs, and hurried us into town.

Town truly is a wonder. There are dolls in the shopkeepers' windows, and I can see what the woman, Miku, called "looms"—a huge stand made of wood to sew rugs and other huge items of artwork that required a thread of any type on. We don't have that in the mountains. Haku and Father act like it's all old to them, but I'm immediately enthralled at their usefulness. It would be much easier for Mother to sew a new article of clothing from now on. Speaking of clothing—the articles of cloth displayed proudly by tailors and seamstresses!

"It's called lamé," Miku had explained to us. "Reserved for the rich folks, but they're quite fine, aren't they?"

They are. Beautifully woven, some colorful and some plain, but they all share something in common—the solid colors are interlocked with whimsical golden or silver thread, sometimes both. It's like tranquility in boldness; each has their own unique pattern, and they come in all types of clothing—shawls, dresses, suits, scarves, for men and women…All very pretty, no?

In any case, we arrived at the boy—Len's?—house soon enough. There is a flight of long, spiral stairs leading up to his bedroom on the second floor, which faces the sunrise. Miku lead us quickly up these stairs, and soon I found myself in his room.

—~'~—

Len's quite a weak-looking figure, skin soft and delicate stretched across his bony body. His hair is a honey-blonde; almost the same as mine, except it's more…crystalline. Yes, that must be it; for each strand looks like a piece of reflecting glass, maybe. His hair is quite tangled, and one could barely call it fully scrubbed, but it seems translucent in a way, a way of which words elude me. Len's eyes are wide emerald mirrors, and I could see my own reflection in his pupils. He's wearing nothing but a poor white shirt and pants that sick ones wear.

Father, Miku, and Haku have left to the living room to talk over wine.

It's just us in the room.

Len seems to have an interest of looking at me. I'm sitting on the edge of his bed, and all he does is ogle me with those large eyes of his. Doesn't he ever grow tired of staring? But then, telling by his clumsy movements, he hasn't been out of bed often and I can probably relate to why, from what Haku told me.

As my mind wanders, my mouth chatters about the town and my home. I don't know why. It just feels so good to let it all out to someone my age; one doesn't come across someone like that often in the mountains. Usually they'd be too old, and deem one as childish, like Lily; or they might be too young, like Oliver, not understanding what one is saying. Actually, Oliver has some pretty impressive interpreting skills for someone his age. He's like a young teenager, even if he really is only eight. A pre-preteen, maybe?

"…Are you like that all the time?" Len interrupts.

I blink. "What?"

"Talkative."

_Talkative?_ Is that the first-moment impression he has upon me? A blush rises onto my cheeks; I'm embarrassed. Len's eyes widen slightly and he quickly amends, "I mean, I've been cooped up for a long time, and I just haven't gotten used to people talking too much…"

Ah. Sensitive boy. Maybe I'll like him after all.

—~'~—

"How long are you going to stay?" Len asks me. After a more formal introduction, we have gotten to know each other better. Now his hands are folded attentively on his lap, and he's sitting up, a bright glint of interest in his eyes. Len is actually quite into what I talk about—but only after he's accustomed to it.

"First thing, tie your hair up like a normal boy; I can't talk to you seriously with you like this," I say, scrambling around for a ribbon, a piece of string—anything that could be wound around something easily and tied just as easily, that wouldn't break.

"You won't get anything from here," Len says, watching me closely.

"Why not? What about the drawers?"

Len does something with his shoulders that could be excused as a shrug. He simply lifts them up, briefly, then relax his shoulder muscles. "I never go around peeking into there. The drawers are too hard for me to pull by using my arms, anyway. Usually Mom comes into the room with something to tie my hair with—usually one of her lace handkerchiefs, but that's it. Since I don't get many visitors, and Mom was much too excited to do anything with my hair, I normally just sit in bed like this."

What? Can't this guy do _anything_?

"Can't you walk?" I find it hard to believe that he can't get onto his feet and go somewhere.

"Well…" Len picks at a fold on his blanket. After a moment of awkward silence, he answers, "I don't know, but I don't think so."

"Did you ever walk at _all_?"

Len looks at me, surprised. "That's a hard question."

"What? What's hard?" All he has to do is to say _yes_ or _no,_ and I'll be content with that. But Len's acting as though it's complicated. Speaking of, I don't think he's ever spoken a direct answer to me. All of it is things like "I guess," "I don't know," or something like that. Is there something about townsfolk that makes them like that? Miku's pretty straightforward. But then, Haku hasn't really said "yes" or "no" to me either.

"I sort of remember being on my feet, but whenever I'm well enough to climb out of my bed I feel fear shooting down my spine, and I recede back to lie down."

"Oh."

There's a silence as both of us avoid each other's faces, and we both look out to the window. The sun has almost made its way up to the noonmark. The golden rays flutter down to earth, but they struggle to seep through the gray smog that now I see is clumped in the air above the town, and only some weak glows shine through. It doesn't quite look like the noon on the mountain—on the mountain the sunlight is strong and spirited—but instead, I have a distinct feeling that Superbia's noon looks more like twilight, minus the pretty colors. Everything's so gray and plain—the houses, buildings, structures made to brave the wind—but as I stare out the window into the window of the shop across from us, I could see vibrant colors being stained onto glass, resulting in rich hues of rubies and amaranth, azures and bice. The milder colors are mostly used for the edges of the design made—honey, ginger, peach, and a lot of others I can't put in with words.

I wonder why town looks so run-down and old on the outside and so beautiful in the rooms within.

"Aren't you proud of Superbia?" I ask, spreading my arms wide. Len, who is staring at the ray of sunshine, blinks and settles back onto his pillow.

"Am I proud of Superbia?" he repeats.

"Well, aren't you?" _You can't judge a book by its cover,_ Father is always saying.

Len stares at me with wide, disbelieving eyes. "Would I be proud of Superbia? Why would I be? Look outside. It's all so ugly. You can't even take in a breath of air without choking on smoke. In the summers the air is so hot that you can barely breathe at _all_. And in the winter the dirt freezes in the air and hail rains down—or a bunch of dirty snow. When it rains, the raindrops are so big it hurts when it lands on your face. Or so they say."

"I thought hail came in the summer," not knowing what else to say.

Len shrugs. "Summer or winter, I don't care, but it _hails_ here. You'd still call it pretty after this?"

"Well…" I don't really have anything to counter that. But I still believe that it's beautiful in some way. Can't Len even see it? Through its ugliness, there's beauty. Like…what was it that Miku spoke of…anamorphosis, like in paintings?

A few adult voices drift up from down below, interrupting our silence.

"Where will you stay?" asks Len finally.

"Where I will…" Oh—I haven't really thought of that. I just guessed that Father had already picked out a place to stay. But suppose he hasn't? What then? I feel a hot blush creep up my neck, and I'm sure my cheeks are already rosy now. "I…don't know," and I'm pretty sure I can't ask Len either if there's an extra room or two, because by the looks of it he hasn't gotten much farther than the borders of this room in most of his life. The only slice of the outside Len's probably seen is out the window, and still that gives a limited view as he can't stretch his neck like most people can; he's a bit too weak for that. I must look pretty foolish, standing there.

Len makes a sound that is probably a sigh, but it sounds more like he's hacking up invisible phlegm.

"Maybe Father already knows," I mumble.

Len shrugs. "Most people do. I was just wondering out of curiosity." He's silent for a moment, then adds, "But if you can't find a good lodging, I'm sure Mom will be more than happy." He has a way of talking that quenches my own will to speak, so I simply keep my mouth shut. What use is there to talk if one doesn't know what to say? It's simply a waste of breath.

"Rin!" Miku's voice sounds from downstairs. Then I hear the swift sweeping sound as she climbs up the stairs on her dainty feet. "Aren't you hungry? I have some food, if you might want…"

"Don't _you_ eat?" I ask Len.

Len looks surprised for a moment, then thinks for a while as Miku makes her way up. "Well…," he says slowly. "Not regularly, but if you mean my medicines, yes…They make up most of my food chain for me. Why? Don't stare at me like that." I can't help it. Len doesn't get _anything_ to eat most of the time? I get it that he's quite sickly, but…This…This is beyond belief. Doesn't Miku make him eat anything? I pose that question to him.

"Yes. But why are you asking?" Len still looks baffled.

I don't have time to answer because Miku opens the door and pokes her head in, holding a tray. "Len? Rin? You two doing alright? I brought lunch in case you didn't want to eat downstairs, Rin. But please do come if you feel up to it."

"Miss Hatsune…" I can't help it then. "Can Len walk?" I blurt.

"Can Len…?" Her mouth hangs unhinged for a few moments, before she clamps it shut. "I do remember him—But, Rin, this is not to be spoken right now. Would you like to eat upstairs in Len's room or downstairs? Len, I have your medicine." She takes a glass bottle from the tray, and sets it on top of the drawer. I could see the dried green herbs in the bottle rattle against each other from the force of Miku's placing.

"I'll eat upstairs," I say.

Miku nods and smiles; "I see. Just remember that we'll all be downstairs, discussing matters of the mountain villages and town." She sets the tray on the top of the drawer too, and leaves. Len watches me as I take the tray down.

"But where are you going to sit?"

"Where do you think I could sit?" I reply, taking a seat on the floor and crossing my legs, balancing the tray on my knees. There's a plum and some bread and cheese, but that's it. I eat the plum first; it's quite juicy, the red meat glistening where I have bitten it. The skin is delicately sour, and a tartness seeps into my mouth. Len watches me intently.

"Is it good?" he asks. I nearly choke and look up at him.

"Don't you know how it tastes?"

Len shakes his head, somewhat sadly. "My jaw muscles are too weak for that."

For once I feel that he's getting to be a bit ridiculous. Jaw muscles are too weak? Even _eating_ is a chore for him? Then how does he swallow his medicine? It's much harder to chew than a plum, that's for sure. Indeed, I could barely bear the bitterness of medicine as I try to swallow something like that.

As if he read my mind, Len explains, "I now normally eat soup, and maybe a chunk of softened vegetable, if I could afford it. My throat…"

"Are you sure nothing can cure that?" So many things about him strike me as unbelievable. Jaw muscles? Shoulder muscles? Missing the ability to walk? Not eating anything in his life but medicine? He must be bluffing on some parts. Or maybe…A sudden thought dawns me. Or maybe he doesn't believe he could?

I hand my plum up to him. "Here, take a bite."

"But…" Len starts to protest.

"I don't care about your jaw muscles. I know that's not true. Now eat."

Len looks like he's about to say something, but he humbly complies and sort of stretches his neck out, except we both hear a _snap_ and he rears back again, grimacing.

"I can't."

I sigh and put my tray down, and make my way over to his bedside. I'd have to teach him one at a time while I'm here, then. I stretch out my hand, until the plum is right in front of his lips. "Now take a bite."

Len obediently does so.

"Mmpf!" His wide viridian eyes widen even more as he chews. It's only a small bite, but the pleasure is obvious on his face.

I laugh quietly to myself. Well, looks like Len isn't incapable of eating after all, hm?

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**Donedonedonedone. I don't know if the Seven Sins are really in Latin, so feel free to correct me if you wish. In any case, you know where I got them. ;) Read and review~!**

**~Unyielding Wish  
**


	4. Len II

**Mitsu, if you "died" waiting for this, I'll take the blame! D; I've had severe writer's block for a while, and a friend had been coming over last week, turning my home into like an after-school...So I didn't have any time to brainstorm on my own. I'm very sorry!**

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**Len II**

_She was a lively girl._

_She certainly seemed to be able to believe everything told to her._

_But how could that be?_

_She can't remain innocent like that forever, right?_

_/ If I keep my eyes on her all the time, she wouldn't disappear, right? If I hold her tight, she wouldn't turn away, right? Aah…useless beliefs. _\\\

Plum tastes quite good, actually.

There's a rather sour taste, and it sends tingles down my spine, but these tingles are delightful. They send waves of energy into my body, and for a moment I almost believe that I could, indeed, hop out of bed and walk. I could understand why Rin is so energetic now. Plum is such a change from the bitter herbs—or small pills—I normally take.

One look at Rin and it's obvious that she's happy too. One could almost feel the happiness radiating off of her. "You did it! You did it, Len!" she squeals, as though I haven't eaten at all before. "How does it taste?" Rin asks me eagerly, her bread and cheese forgotten.

"It's…" I scramble for words to describe. "It's…nice."

"Nice?" Rin snorts. "_Nice_? That's all you could do, Len? What about _scrumptious, tasty, _or _enticing_?"

"That sounds like words Mom would use to describe candy or chicken, actually…"

Our brief talk is interrupted yet again as Mom pokes her head through the door. "Len, have you been eating your medicine?" she asks, walking in with her quick, graceful strides. She frowns when she sees the bottle untouched on my desk, and twists the cork off. "Here, chew and swallow."

The dried herbs don't look very appetizing.

But then, I'm used to this kind of thing.

_Why am I looking at them like this?_ I wonder, as I force myself to obediently open my mouth and accept the herbs. They're bitter. I find them rather distasteful after plum, and I have to use my throat muscles to literally push the chewed herbs down to my stomach.

"Done," Mom says as she corks the bottle again. "It wasn't that hard, Len." A frown of worry briefly crosses her face. "Are the herbs okay? Is that why you aren't eating them?"

Before I could answer, Mom adds to Rin, "And Rin, your father has found hospitality for the night. You'll be staying at an inn with owned by a young, trustworthy woman named Gumi. Are you…finished with your food?" She looks skeptically at Rin's untouched lunch—other than the plum—and Rin blushes. I guess she's not used to people mentioning this about her.

"I'll eat it right now," and as proof, she takes the loaf of bread and is about to cram it into her mouth when Mom stops her, her laugh trilling in the air.

"There's no hurry, Rin. I just wanted to come up and make sure Len was finished with his medicine. I'll be right back with his soup." Then she drops Rin's arm, and swishes out of the room.

There's a silence as Rin contemplates her food and takes another bite of the plum. There's no sound except for the soft crunch of Rin's teeth grinding the blandly sweet plum and its sour skin, and a quiet gulp as she swallows it. I'm not sure if I ever was in a room before while someone else is eating. It's strange, but I find this rather interesting of her, and my eyes follow her every movement. Rin reaches up presently and wipes some juice from her lower lip; then she gazes questioningly at me, one eyebrow cocked.

"Pardon?" she asks, and I quickly avert my gaze elsewhere. I wasn't staring longingly at the plum, was I?

Apparently I was, and she hands the plum up to me again. "Go ahead. Take another bite."

"But…"

Rin grins. "This is the best part. The innermost part of the plum, next to the core, is crisp to chew and kept kind of cold. It's not fibery or mushy, and just right. Kind of like eating ice on a hot day, except without the warmth."

I find myself staring quizzically at her.

"_What_?" Rin asks in exasperation. "You've never eaten _ice_ before?"

"Not really," I say carefully.

Rin sighs. "I guess I'll have to think up another analogy then. While that's happening, go ahead."

All of my fear of plum has vanished by now, and I take a bigger bite. Only this time, my teeth strike something hard. Very hard. With grooves on it. And it _hurts_.

"Oww!" I whine after finding my voice after the shock, snapping back with such force I had not discovered before. For a moment, Rin stands there in shock, her watery blue eyes wide, and I can assume that my gaze mirrored hers. Just when I think the silence is becoming unbearable, Rin drops her hand…and clutches her stomach…and laughs.

"Len, I think you bit the core."

My tongue flicks up to check if my first two teeth are still there. "The core?"

"The seed of the plum." Rin nibbles a bit at the flesh that she has been talking about, and shows the plum to me. "See? It's that bright yellow stuff." She seems to have gotten used to my own naïvety of the world, mirrored to hers about town. "What, did you think that plums were seedless?"

I shrug, not knowing what to think. My shoulders are sore from shrugging already. I don't give them much of an exercise during the normal day; I just sit and watch.

Suddenly a babble of voices rise from the window. A surprised look crosses Rin's face; then she runs to the window, and jerks the lace curtains to one side in her curiosity. It's simply the women who are coming to their usual roost under my window to gossip. From quiet listening, I can tell that the women who frequent this place are by the names Galaco, Sonika, and Akiko*****. I'm not clear on what they look like, as I rarely peek out my window to look down at them, but I do know that Galaco is blonde, Sonika is a greennette, and Akiko a redhead. Rin, in her eagerness to find out, actually pushes the windowpanes, allowing the muggy afternoon air to blast in. Rin leans far over the edge, one hand perched on the side of the windowpane, and the other on along the edge of the windowsill.

"Len, there are women congregating outside!"

I amuse myself for a moment with the wonderment of how she could have learnt such a fancy word as "congregate," as she has spent most of her life on the mountain, but I reply anyway. "They do that every afternoon."

"Just like that? Outside your window?"

"Rin, if you knew how lowly they think of me…"

I'm a bit annoyed, to be truthful, at Rin's loudness. I haven't heard her once when she lowered her voice to a murmur. She's always so obvious. When can she ever…?

"Hey! Little girl!" Galaco's mature voice drifts up. "What're you doing up there?" I cringe at the roughness of her voice.

"I–I—well, I—" Rin looks slightly taken aback. I guess she hasn't seen someone like Galaco before, who would go out of her way to be rather rude. Nobody minds her much, as she's a big part in our town's trade, but it's kind of hard to sit through a whole hour—possibly even more—of hearing Galaco mock fellow townsfolk.

"Hurry up, girl! I have news of my own to share, and I ought not to stand here waiting for a little girl to talk about her reasons of being in a boy's bedroom all day." She laughs roughly at her crude joke.

"Now, Galaco, remember that she's only a kid," Sonika chides soothingly, in her saccharine-sweet voice. "She _can't_ understand what you're trying to input. Go easier on the little girl." I can guess that Sonika's now smiling up at Rin, because she suddenly asks brightly, "What's your age? Eight? Nine?"

Rin turns toward me, and I'm rather amused to see a vein pulsing in her jaw. "What's wrong with these people?" she whispers.

"They're the typical people who think highly of themselves, or simply haven't had a proper bring-up." I definitely know that Galaco has been born into a family that is composed of a woman who had inherited her deceased father's earnings, and her father was a rich merchant. I'm not sure what she did with the money after—rumor has it that her father died at sea and her mother died two weeks later—but I do know that she has some problems in finding a husband now. Either way, her parents haven't cared much about her in her childhood, and that brings us to Galaco's current attitude.

"I'm waiting, girl!" Galaco calls.

"Just go along with eight or nine," I can't resist saying.

"Why would I?"

"At least it's better than having them shocked over your real age." Now that I look at her in this way, she does look quite young. Especially from a distance.

Rin frowns, but yells back, "Nine."

Sonika's delighted giggle reaches my ears. Rin looks like she's about to say something, but then the door opens.

"Rin," says Leon, "it's time for us to leave. We're staying at a nice place nearby, as you might have heard from Miku. Haku wants to stay and reunite with some old friends in town, so we'll be living there until she's done. Hello, Len," he adds, as if he had just noticed me.

"Hello," I say.

Leon turns his full gaze to me. His hair is almost silvery above his sun-scorched face. His eyes are rather pale, compared to the deep lines on his face that tell the passing of time. Have I only noticed these things about Leon now? His gaze catches me; for some reason I can't understand, I'm drawn in and I can't tear my eyes away. Just for a few moments, I sit there in shock at how Leon's eyes can be so strange, when he looks at Rin.

"Rin, are you coming with me?"

"I want to stay here longer," is what I guess Rin is saying, but she only got to "I want to" before Leon took her hand in his.

"You can visit Len all you want tomorrow, Rin. Afterwards we must write a letter to your mother, Lily, and Oliver. They must be missing us." Rin doesn't say anything more, but simply scowls. Leon rubs his temples and looks back to me.

"I'm sorry; my daughter can be quite like an obstinate mule. We'll come tomorrow."

"Okay," I say, because that's the only thing that popped into my head. Leon apparently seemed to be waiting for an answer.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Rin says, as Leon trudges out of the room.

—~'~—

It's incredibly quiet without Rin around. Has it only taken a few hours for me to become accustomed to her chat? It feels a bit lonely without Rin talking about random subjects, town as one of her favorites. The sun is about to dip down below the horizon. The same pale, unfeeling colors appear yet again. Chalky and milky. And Rin called this pretty. I don't see how; I can make out a weakly-shining sun on a background of weak pinks and greens and lavenders and yellows. That's all; even the shadows have more vibrant color than this. I amuse myself with the thought of what Rin might think about the sunset, now that she's seen one of them.

"Len, your medicine." Haku pads in quietly and sets down the bottle on top of the drawer. She's staying the night. Haku twists open the cork and pulls out something that looks like dried grass.

"Rin has been talking about the mountains," I mumble in my usual low voice.

"So she has, has she not. Open up, Len." The herbs taste a bit better than when they were in lunchtime, but I still miss the taste of plum. Haku corks the bottle again.

"Are the mountains really that beautiful?"

"Mmh? You mean Montem Decus?" Haku asks callously. "I guess."

"No, the mountain on which she lives on. Not the mountain that she sees far away."

"That would depend on your opinion, wouldn't it?" Haku replies, her mouth twisting in a faint smile. She rakes a hand through her silvery gray hair. "The mountain could be your best friend, or worst enemy. It all depends on how your mind works."

Her words are too complicated for me to follow.

"So what would it be?"

"Go up there and see for yourself, Len." Haku takes the bottle and leaves.

—~'~—

Even when everyone has fallen asleep, I ponder the thought. She really wants me to see for myself? But how could I? Mom doesn't have enough money for me to get special service up the mountain, and even then there are few people who would volunteer. The way Rin talks about the mountain, it's definitely as if it's her best friend…only that the mountain gets "boring" after a while. After living life in a polluted town, _anything_ would be better than this town, I'm sure.

I lie back on my pillows and allow my mind to wander.

The vision of fat, round cheeses, the way Rin described them, pop into my head. _Bright yellow, as yellow as the sun?_ The sun here isn't quite "bright" yellow. The cheeses here are limp and lifeless. How could I ever imagine such things if I don't have the resources?

And then there's water. _Clear and sparkling._ Aah, now I'm curious.

Grass, flowers, trees, smells. Of course there are scents in the town. The scent of smoke forever lingers like a dark cloud. It's partly the fault of the winters, which are very cold. Superbia is located on the outskirts of some kind of region, and supplies are quite scarce. We rely on the most polluting ways to be warm and get what we need. It's pathetic, really. Simply a pathetic tactic.

Just before I drift off to sleep, the fantasy of getting stronger as to scale the mountain by myself is like a faint wisp of a dream, just far away enough to lure me into believing I could catch it, but when I reach my hand closes on thin air.

* * *

*** = Akikoroid-chan. I only made it sound more like a real person XD  
**

**Thank you for staying with me for so long so far! I need your honest opinion...is this kind of boring to struggle through? If it is, tell me and I'll either make the chapter shorter or make the story easier to comprehend or more interesting.**

**~Unyielding Wish  
**


	5. Rin III

**Just for knowing- I'll probably update this roughly every week or so. The weekends are when I really work on this, and the rest of the days I just brainstorm ideas to be put onto paper. Is this plan alright?**

* * *

**Rin III**

_Her eyes are a beautiful garnet._

_Her hair is a silky, soft silver._

_But something deep down in how her face is set tells me that she's scorched within by lies and insults, her heart torn into two pieces._

_Why is that?_

_And why is her brother the same?_

_.:. A single tear slips down Haku's cheek. I reach out, trying to comfort her, but her image collapses and I find myself staring at a mirror. I'm confused, but yet, as I look further, I see someone else in my eyes. That someone is my sister, Lily. And then, as if from a bad, dream, I jerk awake… .:._

Aahh, a lot of things have happened today.

Meeting Len. Talking with Len. Teaching him how to eat a plum. Meeting other women from Superbia. And then, all out of the blue, my father grabs me by the elbow and pulls me away. We're heading to the inn right now.

This is only my second time in the actual town. I look around at my surroundings in wonder: the shop window, the colors in it more pronounced. I presently see the owner, a baldheaded man with some wisps of thin gray hair, rolling up his sleeves and draping a huge white sheet over a wooden frame. As Father asks around for directions, I watch the owner dip the ends of the sheet into a pot that must be filled with dye, for when he pulls it out again the edge of the sheet is stained royal fuchsia purple and dripping with the thick liquid.

"Come along, Rin," Father finally says, clamping his roughened hand on my shoulder. "Let's go."

—~'~—

Gumi is a pretty lady, with dancing peridot eyes fringed by long, fluttery lashes. Her skin is pale and smooth as porcelain, lips crimson as winter rosebuds. Her brown dress is, quite clearly, made out of the same coarse wool as is used to weave a sack to hold potatoes. A crisp apron is pressed and ironed neatly, resting on top of the fabric of her dress. Her hair is unusually short for a girl, but she makes up for it by slipping a frilled headband onto her head, drawing back her hair so only wisps of moss green hair frames her face, making a rather attractive effect. She's quite slim, actually; if one were to lift one of those bell sleeves and look at her arm, it'd be a little more than skin on bones. It's almost as if she commands the sun with her smile; and like almost every townsfolk I know, Gumi never answers any question with a direct "yes" or "no"; instead, her answers are tactful but a bit frustrating if one wanted an expressment quickly.

The sun, behind the film of gray, dips below the horizon. Even though it _is_ almost as ugly as Len said it to be, there are traces of lost beauty here and there. A pretty cloud shape, maybe, illuminated pink by the sun. Or the playful, bittersweet color, made of the faint shadow of a faraway flying bird against the sun, quite rebellious to the rest of the colors. I can't help but wonder what this sunset would look on the mountain; only but the bravest birds dare to scale up to that altitude and try to defy the sun itself, flying higher and higher. And there aren't much trees like those in town; only pines, stretching on and on. Their scent is delightful, but it's quite irking if it prolongs.

I'm already in our room at the inn. It's fairly simple: a mattress not the softest but none too hard; a window facing the movements of the sun at sunset, and curtains to draw over when necessary; a small table in the far corner beside the door. Some books are stacked on the table, but that's it. I pick one up and flip through it. I don't know what the tiny lines of black print on the rough paper read, and there aren't any pictures to examine.

I'm just closing the cover of the book when Father walks in, after a long talk with Gumi about the money we pay and such. His gaze is inscrutable, and he simply squints at me and then takes a pipe out of his back pocket, sitting on the wooden floor.

"Do you know how to read?" I finally ask.

Father stops, and for a moment we stare at each other.

"Yes," Father says abruptly, and turns away, indicating the end of the conversation.

—~'~—

A week has passed, but Miku doesn't want Haku to leave just yet and Father's much too polite to ask. Town has, I have realized, begun to become boring. There are much interesting things going on around, I'm sure, but I'm often locked into my inn room when Father goes out to run an errand, perhaps, or to check on Haku. I'm not even allowed to go and see Len; Father says that Miku must give permission, a subject of which she hasn't even mentioned of yet.

So it's like this: I sit on the bed, wondering of what Mother, Lily, and Oliver are doing up in the mountains, when the door suddenly creaks open.

I shoot up quickly, my pulse fluttering.

The day is bright, but I only have my own limbs to protect myself from any harm.

Then a dainty foot steps into the room and Gumi is there, with a willow broom.

"Hello," she says hesitantly, when she sees me there, and begins sweeping around the room. I haven't ever seen her doing that, and I've been staying here for quite some time, wasting my time on thinking. Indeed, Gumi's strokes are untimely and irregular; clumsy. Has she never done something like this before?

"Let me try," I say, holding out a hand to her. Gumi looks up, and her pretty face flushes.

"Th–there's no reason," Gumi insists quickly and tries to go on with her sweeping, but it's obvious to both of us that the broom's straws are tripping over each other, not doing a good job.

"Haven't you…done this before?" I finally ask.

Gumi stops moving her broom, and she blushes again. "I've—of course I have," she says stoutly, but she doesn't bother to do any sweeping anymore. "Come on, don't you want to run outside and play with the other children?"

"Father doesn't let me."

"I can," Gumi says. I'm not fooled; she doesn't want me to watch her with her sweeping.

"Can I help?" If I'm dying of boredom, at least now I have something to do. Gumi frowns, but this time hands me her broom. The wood is cool and heavy in my fingers, and the straws are sewn together in a rather flat bunch. It's a beautiful broom; back at my home, Mother has to snap leafed branches off of trees and tie them together. I almost ask Gumi why she couldn't sweep, but Mother's disapproving gaze to Lily pops into my head, and I keep my mouth shut.

The brown makes a soft _sshhhh_ sound as it brushes against the top of the ground. Although I'm not very good at this, I try to sweep as evenly as I could. Wordlessly, Gumi watches me.

"You're not from this town," she finally says, very quietly.

"I'm not," I say, as I draw the dust away from the ground with sweet, rhythmic strokes. _Just like that…_

"I'm not either."

"Really?" I look up. She's the first I've met who hasn't been from Superbia. "Where are you from, then?"

Gumi averts her eyes. "I can't tell you."

"W…what?"

"I can't tell you," Gumi repeats, more strongly now. "It's not my place to." This is the most surprising line I've heard; she can't tell me? Why not? I stop my sweeping for a moment, but Gumi is adamant, so I turn back and continue.

And yet, I still wonder, and I sneak a few gazes at her.

Finally I'm done, and I give her back the broom, and she silently accepts. As I stare, Gumi sits there for a while until I'm sure that she's in her own thoughts, until she asks me, "Rin, do you want something?"

"Ah—no!" I quickly jump away. "I was…er…"

And then I catch her eye, and my breath is trapped in my throat for a moment.

They're not just happy and gay. No, an unsettled wind deep down is swirling, full of intense feeling. Just a glance of that feeling alone sends goosebumps crawling across my skin, but I force myself to stare back. It's like a horrifying fascination, when a ravenous mountain cat is tearing a goat apart and one is nearby, but one only could watch. It's not like insecurity. The feeling isn't rage but not melancholy. It's almost…I can't put my finger on the direct word, but it's almost…_wrath_.

And just as quickly, Gumi walks out of the room.

Strange.

—~'~—

Father arrives back just a few minutes after Gumi leaves; in his hand he clutches a snow-white envelope. There's the slightest hint of joy of his walk, and his eyes seem less sad than usual.

"Rin, Aoki, Lily, and Oliver are visiting. We're to stay a few more days; but you won't mind, would you?"

I stroke Mother's coat. I've tried my best to keep it clean, and my efforts have prevailed: all except for a light yellow stain near the second-to-last button, it's relatively spotless. I feel a slight flame of pride lick its way through my stomach. But there's one thing. I just want to read Mother's letter for myself.

"Can you teach me to read?" I ask.

Father looks surprised.

"Read," he repeats.

"I want to read," I say.

"Tch." Father scoffs. "If you want to read, go to school here in town." A bitter smile speaks it all; he has apparently struggled to learn to read. "It wouldn't do you any bad, anyway. To be a mountain dweller, _be_ one. Run free as the birds, the grass, the wildfire. Don't sit with a bunch of books stacked about you, cooped up inside just with your nose inside a bunch of paper thrown together."

"Then can you tell me what this is about?" I ask, taking the book I first saw off the table.

Father frowns, but squints at the title. "_Hell's Graveyard_*****."

" 'Hell's Graveyard'?" I repeat.

"It's just a guide Gumi probably left on the table, Rin. It's getting late; you should be getting to sleep." As his heavy form lays itself down on the bed, however, I hear him mumble about Lily.

—~'~—

But how could I sleep, with such thoughts?

I fall into a light sleep, but at every little noise I shoot up from the mattress until Father says drowsily, next to me, "Quit with it, Rin." Then around three in the morning, I hear the creak of the joints of the bed and I realize that he has lifted himself off the bed.

A slice of golden candlelight falls through the crack of the door. I hear Gumi's breathy voice, and Father's mixed in with hers. I catch snippets of conversation as well—

"Too young;" "understand naught;" "home;" "no exposure;" "Lily;" "emotionally scarred"…It continues until I'm sure I can't bear it anymore. What's this about age? Understanding? Home? What home? Gumi's home? My home? Exposure to what? Lily? Scarred? I have so many questions to this, but it's my own fault for eavesdropping. There's a thump of heavy footsteps that tells me that Father is trooping back in. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, hoping that he doesn't know I'm awake.

No such luck.

"Rin, I know you've listened." Father's voice doesn't sound angry. Instead, he sounds…almost sad.

"I'm sorry"—and then a rush of apologies pour forth, until Father holds up a hand.

"Tomorrow, you may spend with Len. And then perhaps your mother and siblings will come join us. Our entire family will spend a few days in town. Isn't it nice?"

It sounds superficial, next to what I've heard, and it sounds almost impossible, but I nod in agreement.

"Good." Father drops down beside me. "Now get some sleep, Rin…"

—~'~—

This sleep is better. No waking. It's a sound, stable sleep, that I'm able to hold until six. Then I wriggle about in bed, never able to keep still.

"There are still four hours until you're to go to Len's," Father says rather obstinately. "Rin, get _down_."

I meekly obey his orders, but even then I think of wonderful thoughts…teaching Len to eat more and more…and maybe even make him walk. Yes, that'd be a great accomplishment indeed.

* * *

*** - If I offended anyone with this, please let me know. I know that some Christians do not like the mention of "hell" in stories, even if it's used as a place and not a swear word.  
**

**I'm sorry for anyone's capacity of understanding this killed ;A;**

**Rin's stories are so abstract. They're so..._weird_. So a few days ago I wrote in this sort of book for my ideas the plot, except it's not that good. Too sudden. But I couldn't think of any other plots without making them too similar to those of books.  
**

**Well, I hope you enjoyed this chappie as well anyway!  
**

**~Unyielding Wish  
**


	6. Len III

**I'm very sorry for this very late update! School has been hectic for me. And the legends in here...I just made them up, based on Vocaloid Wiki's guidance of _Moonlit Bear_. A lot of that story is based on this. So references of the Evillous Chronicles are thick here.  
**

* * *

**Len III**

_She's a beautiful woman._

_And tries to hide that beauty through coarseness._

_You can't fool me, Haku._

_I know you're lonely._

_/ I've learned. I tried, and now I learned. Aren't you proud of me? _\\\

The morning after Rin has left for the inn, I wake with surprise, as I've had quite a sound sleep. Not fitful and deep. I have, if I must say so myself, rather enjoyed it.

And then I remember the resolution I've made last night. I wanted to learn how to walk, to get stronger at its least. Now in the broad daylight they merely seem like superficial fantasies. Fantasies that I dream and value highly of, but can never accomplish. Distant dreams that float away with the night sky once the daytime sky breaks through.

Speaking of the sky…Why is it that now I begin to feel attracted to the sunrises and sunsets here?

Is it because of her?

Yes, probably. Rin's irresistible habit of seeing the glass half full.

—~'~—

_("Mom, can I get up for just a few moments?"_

"_I don't know, Len," doubtfully. "Your legs are a bit weak from laying in bed for that long…"_

"_Yes, but I want to see.")_

—~'~—

Almost an entire week passes by before I hear another commotion as big as the first one downstairs. I can hear the Haku's footfalls as she pads down the stairs, and Mom's forced chuckle, if she's not silent already. It's a while before I realize that indeed, Galaco, Sonika, and Akiko are also in the room as Mom is. My body tenses involuntarily, and I'm careful to make no sound as I listen to their words.

"Such a weak, pitiful boy!" Galaco clucks.

"Indeed. Many a cold day I can see his pale, ghost-white face staring from the windows. Nearly scared me to death when I first saw his face," Akiko says in her singsong voice.

"Miss Hatsune, have you ever thought of making another baby and leaving Len as part of your past?"

All this while Mom is terribly silent. I've known that I've been insulted behind my back, but it still stings to hear them in person. Mom, meanwhile, has been very hard to figure out; she has so many layers—I don't know what she's thinking at the moment.

"What business have you staying here?" I can hear Haku calling from just outside my door.

"Oh, nothing. I was just a bit tired of looking up to see an ashy boy in the peering outside, that's all."

The faint wisp of smoke scent floats up, tickling my nostrils. I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle the cough that is sure to escape, and as I do I brush against my cheeks. They are already hot and crimson, and it's not just from the scornful comments I've been hearing. Why must I get another strike of sickness at the worst moments? And why is there the smell of smoke here anyway?

"Can you take your cigarette outside, please?" Mom asks quietly, as if on cue.

"I have a certain time to smoke, Miss Hatsune." Galaco's voice is satisfied, and another puff of smoke I can smell. "Please excuse me, but I come here for a certain reason."

"To speak about my son, yes," Mom says.

"Not _just_ about your son." That's Sonika I'm hearing now. "The postmistress says…"

"Start from the _beginning_, Sonika," Galaco butts in. "We were paying a visit to the postmaster, on account of any news of what happened to my father's items that are still lost at sea. And when we were there, I saw…" I can imagine a sinister smile spreading across Galaco's face. "When we were there," Galaco continues, "the postmaster's wife was arranging some…stacks of mail. Of course Akiko inquired and the postmistress, being the incredible gossip she is, speaks of this big house. You are running out of money, Miss Hatsune. It's only a matter of time before you must give it up to other folks who are more in abundance of money than you are. I quite recall that you have memorized your father's will…"

"How do you know this?" Mom replies, almost coldly but with an appreciative edge to her voice.

"Oh, we're just passing it along! I thought you should know." Galaco sounds airy, lighthearted. Anyone who knows her well enough would be able to tell that she's putting on a mask for show. "Besides, we—"

"I mean my father's will. What do _you_ know about it and why?"

"Everybody knows," Galaco says dismissively. "Remember? It was posted in one of those pamphlets that the cheap folks share with each other. Should I say, _I _hardly ever know. But the lady of the hotel you've recommended the visitor and his daughter to? _That_ woman, I can assure you, is dangerous. She probably lent a hand in—"

"How do you know that visitors came?" Haku asks sharply.

"Town stuff, isn't it? Besides, Haku, why are _you_ here? Part of the visitors?"

_They're stalkers. They're such stalkers._ Although if one ember of gossip is dropped among the throngs of people milling about in the town, it would bloom and spread throughout like wildfire, the ways that these ladies acquire information is almost frightening. They make their system known to no one except themselves, and one juicy piece of talk can result in whispers and stares following one as they walk about. Even though I know that Galaco, Sonika, and Akiko are very nosy indeed, sometimes I can't help but wonder if they've actually been on the scene. Many times they speak of an event, and one can just imagine that they're there. Of course, there's no way to tell whether they're just skilled storytellers weaving a trap out of silken threads of words, because most of the news are actually not happening in Superbia. They're in the neighboring towns—towns like Luxuria or Acedia.

Galaco is the main storyteller, and a lot of the horrifying stories she's famous for are linked. One tale about Luxuria I remember: it's about the lover of a young woman who proclaimed a witch, and was nailed to the cross to die. That much I know from the town happenings—just last summer, there was a great commotion in the town square and a few minutes later flames leapt up toward the sky and people rushed to quench it. Apparently she was a boy's sweetheart, and he had a terrible, painful past. So he made a deal with the devil, allowed a sheen of ice to grow between his feelings and his heart, and began to lure women from all over the county into a harem he had just built. It's said that many a night a woman's screams ricocheted off the walls, combined with panting and a strange, lurid smell pouring out of some of the opened windows. But finally, a man jealous of the prince who had stolen his wife, came and stabbed him with a knife coated with poison.

But that man, from Avaritia, was apparently almost as greedy as the prince. But he had a different kind of greed. "He cared naught," Galaco said, "about the feeling of running a hand down a woman's thigh. He cared naught about the bittersweet taste of a woman's soft lips, of the rivulets of sweat that would pour down his body. He cared naught about the pleasure that comes from pelvic thrusts, the throbbing, pleasing pain from grinding hips. He cared naught about those things, but instead about being surrounded by gold." By this time the man had had a daughter, but that was when Galaco had broken off…

"We must not let the boy upstairs hear," she had said, and whispered the rest of the story to her fellow friends.

—~'~—

There's a lot for Mom to worry about now. For what seems like countless times, I wish that I'm not so weak, as to get up, standing on my own two feet, and go to her room and tell her it's alright. But I can't, so it's left to Haku, but she has enough to worry about, too.

That's when I hear another pair of people come.

I can hear Mom's quick footsteps as she runs down the stairs, Haku following after. As Haku passes by my room, I can hear a string of curse words muttered under her breath.

But the people standing in the doorway come as a complete surprise.

—~'~—

"Why, Rin!" Mom says, shocked.

"She was restless, this one," comes Leon's deep voice. "All night, without a wink of sleep. Our family is coming, later in the day, if that's okay with you."

"Absolutely," but I can hear the doubt in Mom's voice. "They may make themselves welcome."

Then comes a snatch of speaking I can't hear, but there are thuds that send vibrations throughout the entire house, which I guess it's from dropping something. Mom lets out a startled cry, but it's not one of despair. And suddenly a blonde girl bursts into my room, a triumphant look on her face.

"Len," Mom addresses me. "You still remember your lessons, taught by a tutor, correct?"

I nod and prop myself up on the pillows.

"Well then, Rin wants you to read some things she found on a desk in her hotel room to her. She can't read so maybe you can teach her some vowels as well."

This is a very strange request and I can't help but feel taken by surprise.

"Are…are you sure?" I ask Rin once Mom's out of the room. "You can't read?"

Rin looks slightly affronted. "I was never taught, and Father doesn't want me to be taught. But the lines of words on here seems interesting, and besides, I'm staying to visit while your mother, my father, and Haku talk over stuff." She dumps some stray pieces of rough paper on my lap, with some books that have their stitchings falling out.

I pore over the writing that I'm promptly given before I choke back a laugh. "Rin, the fat book is a dictionary and the rest are brochures."

"It doesn't matter, does it? Can you still read it to me?"

I unfold one of the brochures, and the title is enough to make me frown. "_Hell's Graveyard_?" My voice has a skeptical note to it, and I feel like I'm intruding on something not fit for me. But Rin is watching me intently.

"Father said that, too. What does it mean?"

"Th…this is…this…how did you…?"

"The writing looked kind of fancy, and besides I already said it looked very interesting. It sounds really official."

"'_Hell's…Graveyard,'_" I read, knowing no other choice. "_'Many geographers look past this area, as it is considered to be not as important as the rest of the cities. The legend goes back to the dawn of the world, when it was still a child, and still prevails in Hell's Graveyard, where it may have been dimmed, changed, or simply forgotten in the other towns._

"'_It was a young girl—Silva—that first discovered these cities._*****_ The "correct" name for her was Eve Moonlit, and she was one of the best witches in her area, having given birth to the Seven Deadly Sins, to which the seven cities, grouped together today, are named. Her personality still lingers in some parts of this land, and in its people as well: [listed chronologically] the lust, Luxuria; the gluttony, Gula; the vanity, Superbia; the sloth, Acedia; the envy, Invidia; the greed, Acedia; and the wrath, Ira, which perhaps represents Silva most…'_" A cold chill has begun to seep up my spine; the sun seems to shine cruelly bright; I can no longer distinguish Rin's wide blue eyes from the sky, but I continue anyway…

"'_But let us not stray from the main subject. Silva wished to become the mother of the "Twin Gods," and thusly had twins. However, they were born dead due to a poisonous element that the man who had mated her, Adam, had given her. Silva, however, blinded by love of the man, blamed the death on Meta Salmhofer, who had nothing to do with it._

"'_It should be a known fact that Meta Salmhofer has a rather hot temper; and having disturbed her, Silva was subjected to execution. She however escaped it…but Meta had kidnapped her twins…'_

"Rin, let's stop reading this," I plead. "It…it's scary."

Rin looks up, her eyes dancing. "Oh come on, Len. It's just gibberish, an old tale thrown together by old folks to scare little kids. Let's read on, come on." She nudges me.

She doesn't get it. She doesn't understand. This is sacred belief. And she, being from the mountains, has heard nothing of it. This legend is old: I remember hearing bits and snatches of it from Galaco and Mom when she believes I'm not listening. It comes from the scrolls of _Sacra_******, and who knows what could happen to Rin, saying these ignorant words about it. I swallow and continue.

"'_But Meta kidnapped the twins, and Silva soon found her. Due to false belief that the twins were fruits and Meta was bear who had taken them, that the "fruits'" true owner was herself, Silva killed Meta. By this time, she was already tainted by the Seven Deadly Sins, but this was thousands of times worse: They were set into one, horrendous and horrifying._

"'_Finally punishment was delivered to her rightfully, being destroyed by her own adoptive children—Hansel and Gretel—when they returned from the forest after being abandoned. Gretel was very clever, having inherited some her adoptive mother's slyness, and pushed Silva into the fireplace. This act, thus, split the Original Sin into the Seven Deadly Sins.'_

"'_Thus, these cities were named after the sins, each having been founded by one who possessed the Sin. Hell's Graveyard is still the most important of them all, but yet is often ignored._

"'_This is where the legendary forest used to thrive. This is where Silva was murdered. And yet, the only things that are left are the permanent bloodstains on the ground, a wasteland after all of the glory of the past happenings. This is where—most importantly—ghosts can be summoned, if called for correctly, but doing so may result in the one user's death.'_"

—~'~—

Rin is silent for a long time after reading this. Finishing the entire article isn't quite comfortable for me either. Every time I say the word "Hell's Graveyard" I feel like a stone is lodged deep within my throat and I just can't seem to get it out. Either way, she's not pressuring me to read the rest of the articles, either.

I just noticed their names.

_Definitions of the Phrases Commonly Used in Hell's Graveyard_,_ The Story of Luxuria_, _The Story of Gula_, _The Story of Superbia_, _The Story of Acedia_, _The Story of Invidia_, and _The Story of Avaritia_. The last of the series is the brochure in my hand.

—~'~—

**SPECIAL : narrator's pov **

A silent, swift-footed being races along the rooftops of many houses, a ghastly figure, and reality and dreams painfully twisted into one. Often she would pause and glance up at the sky for a moment, then finding comfort in the large milky yellow moon, she would quickly hurry on.

She's quite small; no larger than an eleven-year-old, but yet more than ten times that age.

Her quietness is almost deathly. It reeks of demise, revenge, unhealthy odors. Her emerald green eyes are focused on one destination only: and it seems that she's there…

"Gumi. Hurry up."

"M-Master! D-did you call me?"

A bemused pretty young woman came out of the door in front of a well-known hotel and looks around wildly for the source of the raspy voice, before the woman drops right in front of her.

Her long, silky cerulean hair has long become stringy, soot-black. Her clothes aren't apparent, but they whip at the slightest breath of wind. To fit that, the skin on her hands—once beautiful and smooth—is now corrupted and bandaged over many places. She glides toward the hotel-keeper now, and doesn't stop until her thin, cruel mouth is inches away from biting the girl named Gumi's ear. Said girl is frozen with fear; she can do nothing but stand there stiffly.

"Have…you…the…brochure…?"

"Wh-which brochure, Master?" Gumi stammers. And with that a loud _crack_ splits the night air, and Gumi's hand flies up to her cheek, eyes smarting from the pain.

"You know well which brochure."

"Th-the one with the immortality?"

"That's right, numskull! The brochure of Invidia. The one which contains hints of where the Spring of Immortality is."

"B-but, if you drink from it, Envy will—"

"Are you trying to stall me?" the ruined woman snarls, curling and flexing her fingers. It's hard not to stare at her long, claw-like fingernails, ready to scratch one at any moment. "Hurry up and get it for me!"

Gumi runs up for a moment, but just as quickly she returns, her face ashen.

"It—it's not there."

"What!" rages the woman. "I will take a look up there myself!" Dragging Gumi by her hair, she stomps up to the room in which, if I may remember, Rin and her father resided just a night ago. And the sight meets her eyes: the room combed clean of anything that had words printed on it. "Master" turned to Gumi, her emerald eyes afire.

"You," snarled she. "Tell me. Who was in here?"

"A-a blonde girl, w-w-with her father, Master." Gumi's teeth are chattering, and her knees are knocking. Never has Master's rage been so powerful, straining.

"Hmm." Emerald eyes flash with a resolution. "Then…you do know how to summon Mikuo, correct? The unheard-of son of the man who possessed the Sin of Greed, who loved his sister to death? And the pretty salmon-haired woman who was burnt at stake last summer…Yes, I will like to…"

"E-excuse me for my ignorance, Master, but I must make a trip to Hell's Graveyard if—" Gumi lets out another cry.

"You thickwit! You will do no such thing!" snaps the woman. If anything, she is working herself into a rage. Why is this girl so naïve, so stupid? "You have my blessing. With that you can do anything with spirits. Now _get to work_! Plan how you are going to summon Mikuo and Luka and have them _destroy_ the family to which the blonde girl and her father are residing. _They_ have a secret in their hands, and we must not let them foil my plans…"

Later that night, the shadow of Silva stands in the moonlight.

_Yes, that will be it._

Within just a few days, a few weeks, she would be immortal. She would have all the powers of the world in her hands. The victory—she can just taste it. After years and years of bitterness, _at last._

Master of the Hellish Yard, ruler of the world.

* * *

*** - I made up a lot by myself. "Silva" means "forest" in Latin**

**** - "Sacred" in Latin. Again, I made this part up.  
**

**I hope this was enjoyed~! XD _Please_ don't kill me if I add an OC or two in here. I haven't yet (unless you consider Master of the Hellish Yard an OC), but I may have to. As I said before, I have no idea where I'm going with this, but I have an ending in mind.  
**

**Read and review! Thank you everyone.  
**

**~Unyielding Wish  
**


	7. Rin IV

**I haven't had any inspiration for a while, so I'm sorry for this very late update (again). Toriko is awesome. She can go even lower than 96neko. I wish she was more popular.  
**

* * *

**Rin IV**

_The chill is in my bones._

_The sky is splattered with red._

_Haku's form is lying on the ground._

_Mocking laughter sounds from the woman in front of me._

_.:. Is this a vision or a dream? A telling of the future or just an illusion passed for tired eyes? I look down at the stone jar in front of me, the pristine water sparkling. A wrinkled hand, nails long as claws, reaches up to take it from me, and my mouth opens into a silent, endless screams as I spin through the world… .:._

"Let's read the brochure about Invidia," I suggest, recovering from the shock of information from Hell's Graveyard. "Invidia sounds like a nice name."

"It means envy in Latin, Rin," Len says pointedly, but takes the brochure and opens it anyway.

I lean over his shoulder to look. Lines and lines of handwritten, fancy blank ink across the pages pop out to me; they're no different from the one we'd just read. There are some sketches of a stone jar, carved with intricate markings. There is an illustration of a spring, and even on that rough paper I can see that it's meant to be delicate and beautiful. Then there's a colored picture of a woman who looks strangely like Dell's lover, Luka, holding a pair of bloodstained scissors and a piece of cloth. Embroidered on that cloth is a wooden cross and a young girl, her face indiscernible, with flames leaping up to consume her. She's wearing a loose red frock with a green sash and a yellow hairpin, and her expression is haunting.

Len clears his throat and begins. "_'Invidia, Envy, was created when Silva's Sins were split into sevenths. This Sin, like the others, rested itself comfortably into the body of a human being, and was passed down from generation to generation. The city of Invidia is near the eastern border of the seven Deadly Sin cities._

"'_Invidia's symbol is a spring, as shown on the picture on the left. It is believed that the woman in which Invidia had first rested in often drank from a certain spring, and her descendants did much the same. Soon the spring was christened as the "Spring of Immortality," and the popular belief is that if one drinks from it, that one will become immortal. However, as the generations passed by, the spring eventually hid itself in bogs and marshes, and it became increasingly difficult to journey to it. However, it is said that every hundred years the spring would appear to everyone, but only one will be allowed to drink from it._

"'_So far town officials have done a good job of hunting down the ones who possessed Invidia in their bodies, trying hard to destroy Invidia at last, but it was always passed down from one to another. The most likely treatment for them is to be burnt at stake, considered the same level as witches_—_'_"

"Len, that reminds me of something," I interrupt, and Len stops reading.

"What?"

I point to the picture. "Since you live in town, does this person look familiar to you?"

Len frowns a bit as he stares, and a funny expression dawns his face. "It…does. Sort of. I think it's the girlfriend of Haku's brother, actually. The girl who was burnt at stake last summer."

"That's kind of what I thought…"

"Rin, that's impossible." Although Len looks a bit worried, he is also adamant. "The Sins cannot be destroyed, even though they say that the officials tried. Well, at least, I think you can't destroy them one by one. They have to be smashed together, and then destroyed, but I heard somewhere that it either has to be in the original owners' bodies or regrouped by the creator. And those people are long dead, so I don't believe you can destroy them at all."

"How do you know this?"

"I heard somewhere." Len flips to a new page in the brochure. "I think Galaco still says it sometimes, but I'm not really sure."

"Oh." I take the brochure from him, and after a few minutes of staring intently at the words—the words I can't read—I ask, "Can you teach me how to read?"

"Sure," says Len, looking relieved at the change of subject.

—~'~—

It's just a little past noon when the door is knocked upon again, and in comes my family with Dell. They're exclaiming over everything, and Miku looks happy to be in their company: she must be lonely in the other times. Only Lily is rigid, and her arms are folded across her ample chest, a frown twisted in her face as she looks about. Oliver is like a little shadow, tagging along with Mother. Dell isn't quite excited to be here, though; he glares at everything like it has mistreated him.

"Len, let's walk," I say, poking him on the arm. Len shakes his head.

"I can't. I told you."

"You should have more faith in yourself." I'm about to climb onto the bed, but Len seems to know what I'm going to do and blushes. I catch myself in time—to think of being on the same bed as a boy! So I take his arm and tug him toward me. "Come on, Len."

"Try as you might," Len sighs, finally scooting toward me.

I pull him by the shoulders and in a moment of inspiration I lift him onto the floor. In that moment, I notice a few things—Len is quite light, and his bone structure is very fragile, not suited for working. Then both of us are shocked at what I'm doing and my arms slacken, and Len ends up sitting on the ground.

"You know, you should eat more," I say after an awkward silence.

"I kind of already know that," Len answers, and tries to get off the floor. He succeeds, partially, and then crumples again, this time onto the bed. "At least I'm sitting upright."

"Can I carry you downstairs?" My arms are neither muscular nor strong, but after this I feel like I can do anything. Then, my second time that day, I realize why Len would probably refuse. Fed a plum by a girl, succumbing to the girl's many wishes, being carried off a bed by the girl, and now the offer of being carried downstairs by a girl…But Len nods, although doing it weakly. So I help steady him, and we walk out of the bedroom/

—~'~—

At the foot of the stairs I put him down, and Len quickly reaches out to the banister to steady himself. He winces and nearly falls, but manages to stand without my help. The adults have already moved into the living room.

"At the risk of sounding dimwitted, which foot do you put in front of you first?" Len says awkwardly.

I fight back the urge to laugh. "You can do either."

"Oh." Len walks a step, and takes some of his weight away from the banister. Then another step, and his hand slips off of the banister, and nearly falls again. By this time, I've figured out the best way to steady him, and he ends up standing upright. With no help except for my hand on his shoulder, which is helping him lift himself up. An excited rose flush rises on his cheeks. "I can walk!" He shakes off my hand and walks several other steps.

"You should change," I say. He's wearing the same type of coarse linen shirt and pants he's worn ever since I've seen him.

"Oh, I've been wearing this kind of clothing for most of my lifetime," Len says mildly. "I don't mind if people point and laugh. They've been doing that for more than seven years already."

"If you say so…"

—~'~—

When we enter the room, Dell is very angry while telling his story. "We simply just stopped at a spring to drink, and then a masked green-haired woman stopped us, none too friendly either. Lily couldn't get down a mouthful, so we just put some water in the stone jar we found lying by the roadside and drove to here. Surprisingly, it hasn't even spoiled." He holds up the jar, and my breath catches in my throat. It's carved with the delicate designs I saw on the picture.

And it's beautiful.

Len and I stand there for a few moments when Miku lets out a strangled shriek as she notices us and especially, Len standing upright. "Len—_Len_—how could—?"

"Rin lent—" Len isn't even finished with his sentence when Miku rushes forth and embraces me. Father is frozen in a position which isn't quite standing but not sitting either, looking from Miku to me. It's not proper etiquette for a woman to hug another, especially a girl, if they are not related or emotionally close. Miku mumbles a breathless thank you before releasing her grip on me.

"What happened to the green-haired woman, Dell?"

—~'~—

Night is falling softly outside. The perpetually gray sky is tinged with indigo, and faint starshine comes through. After a trip to Gumi's hotel, we'd realized that she wasn't there for some reason, and Mother and Lily both offered to go find somewhere else to reside in. However, Miku had refused, so we're staying in one of the abandoned rooms in Miku's home. It's silent; not even the soft hum of people moving about is audible. Disturbingly silent. I toss and shift in the bed I share with Lily, and Lily slides to the edge of the bed.

"Rin, I'm trying to sleep," she hisses through her teeth, but I can sense her nervousness within. The silence is unnerving, and I know that she can't sleep through this.

"Why is it so quiet?"

"You ask too many questions, Rin. Go to sleep."

I try, but I can't. I lay awake, staring at the faint sliver of white light that must be the moon. It's frighteningly hot, but the air is icy, as if a powerful being's wrath is about to explode any moment. My heart beating wildly and my mouth dry, I wonder why I'm having such a reaction.

Then a single knock on the wooden door pierces sharply in my ears.

—~'~—

Immediately all of us make a run for the door. Mother in her long white nightgown, Haku in her plain dress, Len standing near the door, pale, Lily nearly tripping over the hem of her own nightdress, and Father, just coming out of his room to witness the commotion. However, Miku is somehow the swiftest of us all, and before we even reach the end of the staircase her hand is already on the knob. She turns it, and the door clicks open.

With a sharp intake of breath, Miku staggers backward and clutches at her chest.

—~'~—

Father makes it down next and hurries to put a hand out to steady her. Miku is trembling, but she pays no attention to Father or Mother, who is now next to her. Instead, she gazes up into the face of the one at the door.

"Silva," she whispers in a terrified voice, and for the first time ever I hear true fear in her voice. "Great-grandmother."

—~'~—

"What—who—how?" Father looks utterly bewildered, and I drag Len down to see, Lily and Haku and Dell following close.

I can see it now. There is a shadowy woman, her hair stringy and thin. Emerald eyes glint out of the darkness, and I feel the same heat and cold vibrating off of her that is now thick and heavy in the soupy night air. Her hands are bandaged, the skin that is shown peeled and scarred and rotting. Behind her, I see Gumi, and two shimmery beings who aren't quite flesh but aren't quite air, either. I can feel Len's hand slacken in his grip.

But Miku pays no attention to any of us. Her eyes are fixed on the ruined woman's face, and as we watch in shock, that face transforms into a sweet smile—a smile that, only a face like that, meant trickery and deceit.

"Ah," she says. "So you do remember me."

"What…what have you done?" Miku's voice shakes with horror, and I follow her gaze to—

Lily's hand stifles my scream. "Just stand here and listen and watch," she whispers. I can't take my eyes off of the woman's hands, try as I might. The scarred hands are dragging something behind them, and as my eyes adjust to the darkness, sickness flows in my stomach. For what she is dragging behind her are bloody corpses.

Corpses, of Galaco and Akiko and Sonika.

I recognize Sonika's vibrant green hair, almost the same as Gumi's. Blood is dribbling out of her mouth, and her olive skin is unnaturally veins stand out in the back of her hand.

Silva notices my staring, and she smiles again. "These three have done their job well." She shakes them. "They didn't even know what was possessing them. At least with their wild tales they led me to the place of the people who possessed a jug of water from the Spring of Immortality."

"The…Spring of Immortality," Miku repeats.

"Yes, you stupid great-granddaughter." Silva then turns her piercing gaze on me, and I find myself sinking in the depths of her mossy green eyes. "Tell me," and she's suddenly in front of me, just an arm's length away, close enough to reach out and strangle me. I can pick out a mouthful of rotten teeth, just at this distance. "Tell me," she repeats. And then her rough hands are around my neck. "_Tell me._" This time, her voice is demanding, impatient.

I can't find my tongue. I try to speak, but no sound comes out.

A growing feeling of dread overwhelms me as Silva's hands tighten and a gust of wind nearly blows the black hood of her cloak off of her head. "Tell me." Father's desperate tries to get her hands off of me don't work, there seems to be an invisible shell between us and the rest of them.

I grope for the outside. The feeling of the wooden beam of the door, anything.

"It won't work," Silva breathes sweetly in my ear. "They're frozen outside. It's just us. I know you're the one who took the brochures lying on the table, the one who read the one on Hell's Graveyard and Invidia. So tell me. Where is the jug of enchanted water? The jug, which will fill the last part of my revival? I have already regrouped the Sins and took them back into my own body. This takes tremendous power and I'm incredibly weak right now for a sorceress who has managed to survive this long. However, I am more than enough to claim this pathetic life of yours and call it my own. But enough about me. There's no loophole." The shimmery beings behind her begin to take form, and a dagger materializes, pressing against my neck's skin. "It all comes down to this, doesn't it? Hand over the jug of water that will ensure _my_ revival, or hand over your life. You have a few seconds to choose. Make your decision quickly."

Before I could muster up an answer, the beings fill up to become ghosts. One is a man with a frown forever stretched across his face, with teal hair like Miku's, and the other is the pink-haired woman I immediately recognize as the girl who was on the brochure for Invidia and the girl who was pronounced a witch.

And then I hear Miku's voice, faint but sure.

"Mikuo?"

Then Dell steps forward with a low mumble of "Luka," and suddenly the shell that has kept Silva and I separated from all of them shatters.

With a scream of rage Silva's hand closes on the dagger's handle, and there is a searing pain in my throat, and I collapse upon the floor and Haku's form crumples as well, lifeless, but just as quickly I am up on the ceiling, with Len's and Mother's shocked faces staring up at our corpses and suddenly I'm floating, floating, and then spinning at a terrifying velocity in blank, suffocating space.

* * *

**Don't worry, Rin's not dead. It sort of implies that, but no, Rin's not dead. Why would I kill (one of) my main character(s) at the climax?  
**

**Anyway, I should be able to explain all that has happened in the next chapter. Len's POV. He definitely knows more about this sort of stuff than Rin (I don't know, I always imagine him like that! -hides-). I also keep imagining Mikuo as the type of seriously serious dude... Or a creepy dude as seen from my story Lemon and Strawberry Cake...**

**~Unyielding Wish  
**


	8. Len IV

**I went to the Vocaloid Wiki again to the Evillous Chronicles (I do much of my researching for this story there). As I scrolled through, I was thinking, "Whoa, this is pretty complicated!" It's really surprising how MOTHY remembers all of that stuff in his series.  
**

**I was listening to a number of songs while finishing up this chapter. It took up most of my Sunday. One of the songs I remember distinctly is Amayumerou (雨夢楼). And also Nano and Mistressu covering Leia in English. My writer's block is so severe that I'd often sit in front of the computer staring at the screen for a while, so if I don't listen to songs it'd be the end of my sanity. -.- Thankfully, I finished this chapter~ Enjoy!  
**

* * *

**Len IV**

_I am scared._

_I cannot feel, but for some reason I know I am scared._

_Please, don't let her die just yet._

_/ It's only a matter of time before the rest of us go. Before that, Mom, I want you to tell me what life meant to you. What I meant to you. And home. What exactly __**is**__ "home"?_ \\\

Rin is on the ground and Haku is lying on her. Blood flows like a steady stream from a wound in Haku's side. Rin is motionless, but her face is pale and her eyes slightly open, showing a sliver of blue that swims with fear. In the space of just two seconds, two lives are taken. I'm frightened beyond words, and I cannot meet Silva's eyes. What _has_ she done? What have _they_ done?

Dell is standing there in shock, a few steps away from me. His eyes dart from Luka to Haku.

Are they the only two people that he has ever loved?

I stare with mild fascination as Dell's face shifts expressions. The rest of the world is frozen. Mom stands to the side, terrified of what she is seeing, and Rin's family members are much the same. Her father steps forward tentatively and places a hand on Dell's shoulder, but Dell roughly brushes him away. His brick-red eyes are flaming with fury. Silva meets them calmly as her scarred hands drop back to her sides. She is like a black cat, and although her body is relaxed, I can see the tenseness in it as if she's ready to spring.

"Are you that upset that your lover has been announced as a witch?" she says in a low, husky voice, and with a single jerk of her finger Luka is pulled near her. Dell stiffens.

"I…won't…forgive…you," he says slowly, stretching out each syllable painfully. Mom slowly edges toward me, slightly, and I can see her fearful eyes.

"Dell, please keep calm," Mom whispers, but Dell acts as though he hasn't heard her.

"You kill for the sheer fun of it, and care not for what you have done, have you once? What is your reason?"

"Hmmmph." Silva shrugs, and her slanted pupils contract, her emerald eyes darting from each one of us to another. She reaches behind her and pulls the trembling green-haired lady from behind. As I saw her before, a dagger materializes near her, but this time it's bloodstained, and I can see quite clearly the face of Haku on it, but just a moment before it melts back into the metal. "I do believe that you have not seen a killing in person, am I not correct?"

"Please, don't…" The girl whispers.

"Gumi, you haven't succeeded and you make me go out and hunt for them. Did you not fail?"

And Mom gasps.

—~'~—

I'm not sure the stories I read before ever featured so much blood and deaths. The green-haired woman—Gumi?—lies slack on Silva's hand. A crimson gash is torn across her pale rose-white neck, and her rough clothes are already soaked with her life's source.

"Must there be such a look on your face?" Silva asks Dell calmly.

"You—you simply—" His face is contorted in something that's a blend of rage and terror and fascination.

"There is no need to be so surprised."

"Why are you here?" Leon says quietly, seemingly finding his tongue again.

"Did I not tell you earlier? Look at your daughter. Does she remind you of anything? No? I came to get the water from the Spring of Immortality. If I am correct, then your wife, eldest daughter, and son passed by Invidia on your way to Superbia and were thirsty, so took a jug of water from a spring nearby. It is common knowledge that it rarely shows itself to anyone now. I was not able to obtain this water: this girl here, the one I have just killed, has failed in taking it from you. So I will do it myself. Why must everyone wear such a look on their faces when I say this? In any case, I have a few ghosts at hand to help me—"

"You asked_ Mikuo_?" Mom's voice is almost hysterical.

"I _took_ him. Do you not know who—or _what_—he is, Great-granddaughter? More importantly, do you not know who _I_ am?"

"You used to be so kind."

"Matters not. It is very easy to play you. And _you_, my great-great-grandson?"

A chill snakes up my backbone as I fight to stare at Silva straight in the eye. Her mangy, dirty hair is hanging over her face, and her lipless mouth is curled into a grotesque smile. She's almost a corpse. She _is_ a corpse. But she is alive. It's not possible. But it is.

"Do you not remember me?" she says, very softly.

Mom's fingers find their way to the base of my neck, and I nod slowly.

"You do not, do you?"

"I do."

"Ah, but that is a lie, is it not?"

Gooseflesh ripples on my skin, and Mom's grip tightens. I could almost feel her panicked voice in my head: _Don't hurt my son, don't hurt my son…_

"You are beginning to bore me. Make your answer quickly."

"I remember—"

"Lie not!"

"But he's not lying, Great-grandmother," Mom whispers.

"Hmmph. Who knew it would come to this subject?" Ignoring Mom, Silva drives her attention to Rin's sister. "Well—?"

Rin's sister presses her lips together tightly, her flesh pale, and shakes her head.

That's where the real chaos begins.

—~'~—

The next few hours pass by in an indiscernible blur. It's a night of craziness. Awful, insane laughter, painful, bloodcurdling screams, and the night air is laced with evil. I don't know who has died yet other than Rin and Haku. I don't know if anyone has died since they have. The ghosts disappear and appear on whim. As if to add on that, it doesn't appear as if the rest of the world could hear us—and that gives one a feeling of incredible loneliness, like one is stuck in a deep abyss of pure darkness and no matter how loud you shout, how much you run, one can't hear anything, one can't find anything, and that one is all alone.

It's barely a comfort, but in this past hour I have been hearing a strange voice in my head. The voice that sound strangely like Silva's, but is not. It belongs to someone much younger, much less evil.

_Where is home? I want to go home!_

Glass shatters with a crinkling sound, and Mom's scream rises above the tide of voices. I wheel about, trying unsuccessfully to figure out what's happening. Silva is here and suddenly there in the space of a few moments, and I can hardly keep up.

_It hurts! Mommy, I want it to stop! Please, Mommy…Please!_

I push past who seems to be Luka's ghost and nearly trip, in my uneven running, over Rin's and Haku's bodies, still splayed out on the ground. Without thinking I grab Rin's slim wrist and drag her to under the staircase, where the house's trembling is heard less easily and where it's quieter than the chaos everywhere else. The voice in my head dims, too, until it's just a soft whisper that could be easily mistaken for a breeze, except in a night like this there isn't such a thing as wind. My grip slackens slightly as I look down at Rin.

Her face, like the others of who Silva has slain, is very pale.

It's the only thing I could make my mind grasp upon. The other thoughts describing her drown and evaporate in the noises near the door.

Her eyelids flutter, and for a moment the soft beating of a pulse thumps against the palm of my hand.

"Rin?"

"I can't be alive."

"But you are."

"—Len?"

"Rin, are you okay?"

Rin exhales through her nose. "Len, I am not supposed to be alive. Just let me die already."

Is she crazy? "But—…," I begin to protest. "Rin, you were unconscious! How are you not supposed to be alive? I'm serious; _are_ you okay?"

"I wasn't unconscious," she says plainly. "It might seem like I was, but she didn't really kill me. I don't think she meant to kill me, actually. I don't know how, but for a few moments I dwelt on the inside of her mind—Silva's—and the minds of everybody else's. I found out that I was birthed by accident, not by the one who I call Father but by Princess Riliane Lucifen d'Austriche and Duke Sateriajis Venomania, the princess who is best known with her possession of Vanity and the duke who held the spirit of Lust. I don't know how it came to be, but Aoki Lapis—my 'mother'—was a close friend of Clarith, who was a relative of Haku. Clarith had known Riliane, and she knew about the birth. She handed me over to Haku, but Haku couldn't take care of me. Haku contacted her brother, but Dell couldn't take care of me either, so he gave me to my 'family' right now. I got this all from Silva's thoughts, and it seemed as though she was aiming them specifically at me."

"But that does not mean you must be dead."

"No, it does not. But I don't—it's just a feeling that I'm not wanted."

"Were you trying to die?"

"Somewhat." Rin doesn't smile. "When I know the truth, everything seems to change."

_"I know how she feels."_

The voice is so sweet, so real, that for a moment I think that there isn't such a thing.

Then I look into the face of the ghost of Luka.

—~'~—

"You were burnt last summer," Rin says, "on the cross."

The shimmery body of Luka wavers as she turns to look at Rin with her clear aquamarine eyes. "That you must already know."

"Dell told Haku, and I heard."

There is some shadowy movement, and Luka seems to have nodded.

"Are you a witch?" I can't help it; I just blurt it out.

"Ah." A slow smile spreads across her face. "Little times have these arrogant people first been correct about witches, even the slightest bit. I cannot be qualified as a witch, but I was possessed by supernatural powers. You may have heard of it…I was the most recent holder of Invidia, but having no relatives to reside in anymore, Invidia went back to Silva's body, allowing her the first part of her revival. Seeing this she simply plucked the rest of the Sins out of their hosts' bodies and regrouped them back into her body, but it's not complete until she could get her hands on the Spring of Immortality."

"Oh," Rin says softly.

"I cannot go back to my grave until this nonsense is over; neither can Mikuo, and the other ghosts the Master of the Hellish Yard has called forth. The job of stopping 'this nonsense' lies with you."

"Why is it our job?"

Luka smiles again, but wanly. "The rest of the adults are too wrapped up in their own happenings. The little boy who I hear is called Oliver is too young to understand what this is. You are just the right age; besides, this is the time where talent truly blossoms, is it not?"

There is a silence.

"Come on, Len," Rin says, pulling me to my feet, seemingly made up her mind. "After this happens, I'll die, but I'll rest in peace knowing that the creator of all of the Sins are finally gone. If I happen to die any time before that, I'll be blaming it on you."

"But—!"

Rin laughs. "I'm kidding, Len. Let's go."

"Good luck," Luka says softly, and disappears.

* * *

**I had some problems trying to stop writing...**

**My utter thanks to you, Ten-Faced, for helping me in one of the parts here. You are like the bestest frendie/ vertaul neese evar asfdjaksdfjals;;  
**

**Sorry, I felt misspelling those words there...  
Thanks to the rest of you, too, for reviewing and staying with me! (Troubled Windchimes and Mitsu in particular)  
**

**~Unyielding Wish  
**


	9. Rin V

**Rin V**

_Spinning in nothingness gives me a queer feeling._

_It is even stranger to hear Silva's thoughts._

_I want to block the truth out. I want to be a little child again._

_But that cannot ever happen, and now we have a task._

_.:. "_*****_Under my clothing, I hide insanity. All brittle, fragile, frail humans are, after all, nothing other than discarded puppets. Shatter, shatter! Shatter all! All evildoers are, of course, nothing other than piles of useless junk…" .:._

I brace myself as I step with Len back into the living room, but nothing happens. This room is almost unrecognizable now. Glass shards litter the floor, and screams pierce the murky night air. A flash of black darts back and forth: it must be Silva. Len's face is rather tight now, and he seems to have a twitch. I shake him.

"Len, what are you doing?"

"It's come back."

"What's come back?"

"Voices."

"You think I'm crazy for wanting to die, but you hear voices?"

"No!" Len protests. "They sound like Silva!"

"That's why I'm telling you! You're every bit as crazy as I am! Come on, let's stop arguing. Silva's right there."

She is. She's standing there, calmly, watching as ghosts and humans trip over each other, not knowing what's going on. She's almost smiling at the ruckus she's caused. I see the man who Miku calls Mikuo, and Luka apparently has come back—though, she doesn't look quite ghost and not quite human. There are also several other creatures that are like this. One has long purple hair tied up, looking at Luka with a strange, wanting expression on his face. There is a brown-haired woman sipping from a glass of bloodred wine, and a girl and boy looking somewhat like us, walking around. Another woman—teal-haired, quite like Miku's—reaches out toward Miku, but Miku pushes her away with a scream. A blue-haired man is burrowing in the drawers, throwing its contents everywhere, and only grinning when in his hand he holds a coin or some other type of money. And Len looks extremely bewildered.

"Can't anyone hear us?" he asks.

"What? If we yell, of course they can hear us."

"No, I mean, people from the outside."

"I don't know." I've wondered about that too. "Anyway, let's go. Silva's right th—agh!" Mikuo has run over and pushed me.

"Tell me," he says, and I'm reminded of Silva. "Tell me why that silver-haired man hates me. Tell my why my sister ceases to recognize me."

"Y-your sister?"

"Miku."

"But she did," I say, remembering how Miku had uttered "Mikuo" right before I was stabbed by Silva. "She called you…'Mikuo'…didn't she?"

"She ceases to recognize me as her brother, stupid girl! Of course she knows me."

"W-what do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said!" Mikuo snaps. "She does not gaze at me with the admiring eyes of a little sister anymore. All I see when she turns to look at me is fear mixed with awe, not respect. I try to reach out, hug her, and all she does is pushes me away. I ask myself, 'What happened to the little sister I once knew?' I could hear no answer within me. And _you_ have yet been stabbed by the Master of the Hellish Yard and survived, so you must know!"

I want to say I don't know, but my courage has suddenly left me and my knees knock against each other, my fingers digging into my kneecaps and making marks in my white dress.

How I would give anything to be Len at this moment. Len is just standing silently beside me, and he isn't saying anything. Mikuo doesn't care about him as far as I know, perhaps because _he_ hasn't really been involved in this mess, other than reading to me the brochures.

Then I hear a voice.

A voice?

Like the one in Len's head?

It certainly doesn't sound like Silva, but there is a horrible rasping quality to it.

_Dell hates Mikuo because he is drunken,_ the voice taunts. _Dell believes Mikuo is the priest who burnt Luka at the stake. He won't rest until Mikuo dies, but Mikuo cannot die twice, so Dell's hatred cannot be cured. This makes him a madman, but he is already a madman. He is already seeing things, hearing things, talking to things that are not there. There is one way to relieve him of this pain. You can kill him or he can kill himself. Make a ch—_

"Shut up!" I scream, and Len looks at me, bewildered.

This is when Mikuo finally notices Len. "You! You're my nephew!"

Len's face twists itself in a strange expression, and his jaw unhinges for a moment before clamping shut. "Yes," he squeaks, and it's almost as if he's forcing his muscles to move.

Mikuo doesn't treat Len like he does me. He bends down and gazes into Len's blue eyes, blue as cornflowers. "Do you love me?" he asks in a low voice.

"Yes_—_er, no_—_I-I mean yes," Len says again, in a strange high-pitched voice.

Mikuo acts like he's about to respond, but I don't hear an answer to Len's statement before the same voice strikes me.

_You are wondering who I am, I know you are. Pity you cannot see me although I am standing right next to you. I am Silva's inner monster. Are you happy now? Silva is so destroyed with this sudden revival, she is on the brink of insanity, perhaps even almost crossing over. The only way she can prevent this is with the water from the Spring of Immortality. I care not whether you give it to her. I am only a wisp of thought and if you are going to die, so be it. You look very frightened, my dear. Would you like me to—_

"Shut _up,_" I insist, clawing at the air around me. I don't want this talkative spirit to touch me.

_Ah, then would you like me to tell you why I am inhabiting your mind instead of Len's? Well, Len already has another voice in his mind. It would be very rude to disturb that voice, and besides, I cannot get my message across quickly enough with two voices talking at once. But your mind is so fresh, and I can easily sit there. It really is easier to talk to you because Silva had both me and quite a few other voices in her head. But all you have to do is listen to me, and me only—_

"Rin." Something brushes against my shoulder. "You seem a little out of it. I am Luka."

I try to reply. "Luka, can you—"

–_and me only. It is very marvelous, is it not? In any case, pay no attention that ghost next to you. She has committed a terrible crime. She has slaughtered an entire family out of her jealousy. She is the holder of Envy, remember?—_

"Rin, what's wrong?" Luka sounds genuinely worried.

"It's this voice in my head. It wouldn't stop talking. It's scary. Besides, it—"

_Listen to me, Rin. Not to that ghost. I can be the key to defeating Silva, as I have resided in her mind for long. But that ghost cannot—_

"SHUT—UP!"

"Rin—" I am suddenly holding a knife, and Luka's presence hovers over me. "Take this knife. Dell can't stay any longer." Luka sounds tearful. "I hate to see him like this, but something must be done. He is more than crazy. He needs help. Any longer in this world and it might destroy him completely. I cannot kill him, but you can."

This sudden request catches my attention. "But what about—?"

"It is alright, Rin. Haku is dead."

"Haku…is dead?" I cannot listen to Luka any longer. Even the voice of Silva's "inner monster" has ceased. How could Haku be dead? Haku is much stronger than that. I barely know her, but she is much stronger. She should be!

"It was a trap to get Dell to become like this, Rin. Ravaged with grief and fury. He doesn't know who to blame."

"But—Silva—isn't she—"

"Silva is much cleverer than you think she is, Rin. Hurry…"

_STOP TALKING NONSENSE!_ the spirit snaps in my head. _I agree with killing Dell, but do not listen to _her_! I have much a better way! One that involves not killing Silva! Listen, Silva's and my life-forces are tied, because I am pretty much Silva! But there is a way to kill Silva without killing me—_

I block out the sound of that spirit. There would be time to deal with it later. Meanwhile, the grip of the knife is ice-cold, and a chill the same way seeps up my back.

"Luka, Haku's…dead? And I have to kill Dell?"

"Dell will be happy. He will reunite with me and his sis—" Luka trails off, and I look up.

There is Dell, right in front of me. The knife glints cruelly. He is holding a porcelain vase right above my head. That moment I realize what he's going to do. Why do I feel such remorse for a murder I have not even committed yet, and he wants to kill me just like that heartlessly? Dell raises the vase, and before I know it, I scream.

Then it's all over.

—~'~—

My clothes are splattered with blood. My hands are splattered with blood. I taste blood on my tongue, my own, not Dell's. Dell's form lies in front of me. I drop the knife with a soft clatter.

A large slice of porcelain has ripped a deep gash across my face. It hurts, but I cannot feel it.

I have killed someone.

How long will it be before I kill someone else?

As I watch, a light, thin wisp of air above Dell's corpse forms into the shape of stocky Dell. My throat is suddenly dry, and I find myself staring into the brick-red eyes of my victim. He is bloody as well, but better off than I am. I wouldn't be surprised if he turns out to be a poltergeist, but all he does is nod at me. Then another wisp of air forms into Haku.

"Thank you for the favor," she says, and for the first time I see her smile.

It replaces the chill that has been sending tremors all over my body, and I feel warmth again, but pain as well. Crinkles appear beside her eyes. Luka joins her.

"I'll be shepherding them to where they belong," Luka tells me. "Now you better rescue Len from Mikuo, wrench Mikuo back to normal, and defeat Silva. I'll be there to help. Wait," and a flash of worry crosses her face. "That voice is gone, right? At least for now?"

I haven't even realized that it has.

"Yes," I tell her, and they disappear together.

—~'~—

"Len, don't look at me weirdly, but I killed Dell."

Len stares at me anyway, looking me up and down, but nods. He understands, or I hope he does. Mikuo must have told him something about it. "Are you here to rescue me from Mikuo? I've settled it."

"Where is Mikuo, then?"

"He…disappeared. I don't know where he went. I'm pretty sure he went somewhere, though. It's pretty surprising how nobody heard you," Len adds. I look around. They are still doing their own things, and the spirits of the Seven Sins seem to feel no need to stop. However, we are barely any targets for them for a mystifying reason. I glance back at Len's profile, and that's when I realize the scar across his nose.

"Where did you get that?"

"Get what?"

"Your scar."

Len gives a start, as if he's just remembered it. "The only thing I remember about it is that my great-great-grandmother tried to heal—" He stiffens. "M-my great-great-grandmother? No, that doesn't make sense…"

_Silva is Miku's great-grandmother, _whispers the voice. _So that makes Silva Len's great-great-grandmother…_

"Was she nice?" I ask, suddenly curious.

Len backs away. "Look, Rin, it's kind of touchy, and anyway, Silva is right there, so…"

_He's scared,_ says the voice. _He's confused and doesn't know what to think._ On that note, I can almost sense pity in the spirit's voice. _Len is feeling as though he knows the woman Silva used to be, but Silva is a completely different person now. That memory is very familiar to him, but Silva is acting…_

It doesn't even need to continue. I already know.

I pick up my knife from the floor and scrape the dried blood off of the knife.

"You know, Len, I kind of don't want to die anymore, but before this night is over I want you to tell me what exactly this is all about."

Len nods miserably.

* * *

*** - lyrics from Karakuri Burst. Some are from Anime Lyrics dot Com, and some are the subs on YellowNyan's uploading of Rin/Len Append POWER singing Karkuri Burst. I do not own.**

**Did anyone catch some other Karakuri Burst references? Such as the scar across Rin's face, the scar across Len's nose, Rin murdering people, and everything... The only thing is, Rin had a gun, but guns were kind of too modern for the time frame I put this in.  
**

**- Are Rin and Len crazy? No, they aren't. Everything will be explained at the end of the story as always :D  
**

**Thank you for reading/reviewing!  
**

**~Unyielding Wish  
**


	10. Len V

**Len V**

_It's hard._

_The end is near, but is it Silva's, mine, or Rin's?_

_Or perhaps the entire world will collapse?_

_Where do the Sins go, anyway, if we do manage to destroy Silva? Will they disappear along with their mother, or will they stay?_

_/ Each step I take, each heartbeat that drums in my ribs, reminds me that I am alive for at least one more second. That comforts me._ \\\

At some point into the night, the fighting stops. We were making our way across the floor to Silva, but suddenly everything falls quiet and we stop as well. An eerie wind whistles through the trees. The moonlight shines through the thick stormy clouds. Just out of the corner of my eye, I can see a grayed, dry leaf flutter from the outside to the ground and stay upright for one second before gently laying itself on the road. Even the ghosts of the original holders of the Seven Sins—or perhaps they _are_ the Seven Sins—stay quiet.

Silva's arm is stretched out, as if to make a "halt" sign.

"Rin," Leon whispers, and Aoki Lapis lets out a choked sob, but they can't get near. They can't, because of a peculiar shell between us and them. It's like when Silva stabbed Rin.

This time, I'm with Rin.

"Hello, Len," Silva says softly. "Hello, Rin. So you saw?"

Her hiss sends chills down my back, and gooseflesh prickles on my skin.

"Hello, Silva." Rin grips my hand tightly. Perhaps she's scared too, but she's good at concealing it. Her nails make etches on my skin, and I squeeze her back. It's just us.

Wait, no…The spirits drift in.

—~'~—

"I take it that you remember these Sins," Silva says, "from your brochures."

I don't know about Rin, but I can recognize them. I know them from Galaco's tales and stories that…_someone_…used to read to me. I stare at Silva again. She cannot be the beautiful woman who I loved so much, who wove her words into intriguing, mythical stories, finely crafted as a river of spun sugar. And what is Silva? Her spindly, bandaged hands could only weave a web of bitter saccharine, designed to trap and intimidate. How can she ever compare?

A tingle runs down my back as I gaze at the purple-haired spirit. Yes, he is the duke who lured all the women from all across.

"It is a shame you do not remember me, Len," Silva says.

_She lies._

"Shut up," Rin tells her.

"You know better than tell me to shut up, Rin." Silva's eyes glitter. "I can curse you."

Supernatural powers is another thing we lack and Silva has. I begin to grow doubtful. How could we ever manage to kill Silva? How do we kill her anyway? I don't think sticking a sword through her can work. Can it? Rin apparently has the same thought, because her grip on the knife tightens. I watch her out of the corner of my eye, keeping my other eye on Silva as I begin to try to sort my thoughts.

"On the count of three, let's both try to stab her," Rin mutters to me, moving closer.

"How?" I breathe. "I don't have…"

"Well, try to hurt her."

"You know, it's going to be hard." I aim another nervous glance at her face. Silva seems to be content to let us talk about things, standing calmly there. She's a cat and we're mice. She knows we cannot escape.

"We have to _try,_ Len," Rin insists.

I don't ask why. Instead, I edge closer to her. I'm older than her, but I feel no braver.

"Don't worry, we'll go through this together," Rin says.

The moon seems brighter tonight.

—~'~—

A sheet of darkness falls over me. Dizziness and nausea follow as I spin through space. Rin is close nearby, her eyes wide with surprise. Silva's cackle is still resonant in my ears. What happened just moments ago is already an indiscernible blur to me. I feel a wetness between my fingers, which are clutching the front of my shirt; when I look down, there are red fingerprints on the white fabric. Is this what Rin felt the first time? I look at her again. She still looks surprised, but she seems to find this place familiar.

"The galaxy," Rin says, "in our minds."

I blink at her. "What?"

"You know, we're in someone's mind. The mind galaxy," Rin explains as we fly through dark space. Visions flash past me, but I'm not stationary long enough to catch their meaning. "We just have to find whose it is. If it's Silva's, it'd be great. Though the last time I went in there I nearly turned insane because of all those voices. Silva's practically schizophrenic."

I remember the screaming voice I'd been hearing in my own head before I plunged into this person's mind.

"Did you notice the feeling in here?" Rin asks me.

"What feeling?" Other than my own, I don't know what she's talking about.

"That feeling," Rin says impatiently. "The way it's everywhere. This one is pressing down on us, and it feels cold—the feeling of terror, maybe. The one I felt in Silva's mind was ominous, like a dark, damp cloud hanging over me. I kept thinking at any moment I'd be caught by someone. You know?"

She's right. Sort of. My spine tingles again, but this time it's from cold.

In fact, everywhere is the frosty, hard feel of fear. It's as if someone's breathing down my back but I just can't turn to see what that someone is. As we progress deeper into the mind of this person, the feeling of fear intensifies, until it's hanging just in front of us. It's getting harder to drift through, and I realize that the indigo darkness in which we're surrounded by suddenly has turned darker—the color of dried blood, maybe, coated on an upstream river and just dissolving. I'm probably just as terrified as the person who I am in, but Rin seems to be interested in all that happens.

"We just have to go find who this person is," she tells me. "It's not Silva, either. I know what Silva's mind is like."

"You dwelt in everyone's mind, right, not just Silva's?"

"Everyone in this _room_. I can't get into the minds of everyone in the world. This mind does seem a bit familiar. I think I've been in this one's. I can't really tell, though—I stayed in everyone else's mind for about a second each. This mind—…," Rin stops suddenly. "I think this mind is Lily's. Come on. Let me get to the part of her brain that stores memories."

"Why memories?" I ask as I'm helplessly dragged along.

"I don't know. She's always been a hard person to read. Maybe I'll get to know her better."

"Aren't you supposed to refer to the part of her mind that _thinks_ to do that?" I demand.

"Yes, but the entire mind thinks," Rin replies. "Just that each part of mind thinks differently. Right now, I'd say we're somewhere in the depths of her mind, the part that generates feelings."

I don't try to ask how she knows all of this. I only follow and hope we're going the right way.

"You know, Father told me once that time passes much faster in minds than in the real world. If that's true, we've been spending at least ten minutes here, but it's probably only two minutes since we've been sucked in," Rin says as if it makes sense to me as well as her. We fly along each other in silence for a few more minutes, before Rin stops suddenly and quickly darts in a part of mind. I didn't notice it before, but the mind is divided in sections that are very easy to get lost in.

"Come on, Len!"

I have no choice but to follow her into this section of Lily's mind. The moment I step into this place, I'm suddenly whisked away to a flowery meadow of grass. It's on a hill, and I can see purple mountains in the distance. Rin draws a sharp breath.

"This is Lily's mind, all right," Rin says softly. "This is where we live."

It's a beautiful place. The skies are clear, china blue, not a disconcerting gray. Clouds float aimlessly in the sky. A teenage girl with blonde hair that ripples like water in the slight breeze sits among the grasses, watching a much younger girl who runs about, laughing and shouting. There are golden yellow wheatfields in the near distance. It's strange how I see this scene. I seem to share a same perspective as Lily, but yet I see Lily as someone who isn't Lily would see her. The images in this memory are blurred and hard to make out, but somehow I know what is happening. Whatever happens in front of my eyes—or Lily's eyes, if one chooses to think of it in that way—I seem to _know_, and yet I can't really _see_ any distinct details. It's hard to hone in on anything's features. As soon as I think I know what Lily looks like, suddenly she seems to change and I have to focus on her again.

"I know this," Rin breathes. "I'm the little girl. That's…Lily."

Lily is apparently not happy. She's calling for the little girl. Sound in memories is much like visions in memories. I can't really hear it, but I know what she's saying, and the sound echoes throughout my head, but I can't remember what it sounded like a moment after.

"I remember," Rin says. "I wanted to explore everything, but Lily wasn't happy with that." Suddenly this scene blurs and another scene pops up, as if it's a memory in memory. I can just see little Lily running through what seems to be a golden wheatfield, and her eyes are wild with fear. She trips over her own feet as she runs. The clouds overhead are ominous gray, but just then they part and in the rays of strong white sunshine I see a woman's face. Her skin is milky white, and she's smiling, but just barely. Her eyes are closed and teal hair is held at two ponytails at either side of her head. She has a way of captivating my stare, but just when I begin to lose interest, a look of terror appears on her face; and then her eyes turn red and an insane grin rips across her face. Her fingernails sharpen into claws and her silky teal hair turns oily and a hood is draped over her head. But as soon as I see this, the scene fades out, returning to the Lily in the meadow, but Lily is now looking troubled.

"What?" Rin asks, just as bewildered as young Lily. But the pieces are beginning to shape up in my mind.

Silva's been haunting pretty much everyone she chooses, branding a memory into their minds forever. Why, I don't know, but it seems like a reasonable explanation to me. The lady's beautiful face before it morphed into something—

_Oh._

That's who I remember.

It's not Silva, either. Silva's taken control of that body.

But if that's true, then why does Mom call Silva "Great-grandmother" like Silva's been like that ever since? But if Silva's been like that ever since, why do I remember Mom's happiness? Have my memories been altered, or has Mom's been altered, or has both of ours been altered? Simply standing there, hundreds of questions overwhelm me. I don't know which to begin with first.

"Let's get to the next one," Rin says to me, her voice quiet.

"How?" I ask.

"…I don't know." Rin pauses for a while. "But I want to go forward in time, so I guess we step forward. Anyway, this is a memory, so we won't actually proceed up the hill…well, I hope not."

We don't. As soon as Rin and I drift forward, the scene in front of us falls away and is replaced by another. Lily is a little older by now, and her formal dress tells me that she is being courted. She is sitting on a mat beside her father, near the place where Lily had seen Silva's face. Lily smooths the poufy sleeves of her white dress, and fingers with the embroidered gold lace of her sash. Her fidgeting tells me that she's nervous. It is an eerie twilight, and day is breaking through.

A young man appears, riding on a horse. His liquid golden eyes travel from Lily to Leon; a slight breeze lifts some strands of black hair from his ponytail. A bow is slung across his shoulder, with a quiver of arrows. He is dressed well, and is rather handsome.

Lily looks fearful, however. She presses closer to her father's side.

"That's Rei Kagene," Rin says, as if it explained everything. "I liked him a lot, but he was just too scary for my taste. I mean, he's not 'scary,' but a bit dark and unpredictable. I guess Lily didn't like that point of him either, so she didn't—_oh._" Rin suddenly grabs my arm. "_That's _why she's scared of towns. Rei is from the town Ira. The place with…Hell's Graveyard."

I feel as though lightning had come out of the twilight sky of the scene in Lily's memories and actually struck me. "But why is Lily scared of towns?"

"I don't know. Well, I do, but I'm not sure if it's the right answer. Ira was the first town Lily had been in, so I guess she thought all towns were creepy like that."

"Let's go on," I say.

—~'~—

We pass through more memories. Some of them aren't very significant, and some are just a glimpse, but others might have gone on for hours if Rin hadn't pulled me through, stating that they were "boring." After a few more minutes of that, we land on seemingly the most recent memory Lily has had.

"It has to be about tonight," Rin says.

She's right.

It's a replaying of the scene in which Rin was stabbed but not killed. Upon seeing the gist of the scene, I look down at the gash mark made by Silva's materializing dagger. Rin has another mark too. Maybe that's how it works. Silva sticks the dagger into someone, and that person automatically is transferred into the mind of someone else, and their mortal bodies are working machines, with no soul to guide them because the soul of the person stabbed is in someone else's mind and exploring their deepest secrets. I can see how it could be useful sometimes. The gashes on Silva's hands…were those because she tried to stab herself with it and go into the mind of someone, to kill that victim? And if Silva stabs someone else, but not to kill, she could destroy the living body of that person. I don't know whether the soul could still return, but it's not a very happy thought to hold on to. It's scary, but it works really well, although I don't know why Silva sent us into Lily's mind, of all the people there are.

Rin pokes me. "Len, watch it. It's kind of interesting to watch in another person's perspective."

Lily's standing there, unmoving. I stare as Silva shrieks and the dagger's tip drags against Rin's skin, and Rin crumples. Silva raises the knife and brings it down on the nearest victim, Haku, as well. Dell looks terrified and furious at the same time as Haku falls. Silva speaks.

Then the image clouds over, and it's like a memory in memory again: Lily remembering what Silva had said before. The words bounce around in my mind.

"_I'm terribly weak for a sorceress my level, but it's just enough to kill you and obtain the jug of water…"_

Suddenly there is another voice, crowding in on the first. It's more wounded, sadder, and quieter.

"_I am mentally unstable as well. I am not strong. I am not—No! You cannot stand against me. You are too weak. G-give up now! Silva borrowed me…but that is all for the good!"_

That's strange. It sounds familiar, like a tale someone used to tell me.

"Ira," I say, without realizing it. "Ira…Silva used the Sin of Wrath to further her revival. She only needs the water from the Spring of Immortality now. But now Wrath must be weak from Silva's borrowing of her power, and Silva is not yet out of the danger zone. So we can destroy both of them…if we want to."

_Still, Wrath is weak. And life—…_

Have I just realized this?

Life without Sins would be just a dream. There must be the Sins for the world to go on, forever countering Morality. The unforgivable actions were needed. Or else, what would it be? But the Sins shouldn't roam the earth. They should have another place…

"Oh," I say.

"What?"

"Remember…about Silva's mind being unstable? Well, then she could probably be defeated by thoughts. Thoughts, as in positive thoughts. We just have to find a way to get into her mind…"

A light dawns on Rin's face. "But the dagger is the only way we can get into there. So we're going to wrestle her for it, or something?"

I bite my cuticles. It's a very risky plan, but I don't want to think what might happen if Silva got to drink the water from the Spring of Immortality. "If that's what we have to do, that's what we'll do. After that, then…well, you're going to have to lead me to the place where she hears everything. We're going to act like those possessing spirits."

"Actually," Rin says mildly, "they're everywhere."

"What?"

"They're everywhere. I mean, once you get into her mind, you can hear a dozen different voices shouting or whispering or saying random things. They're the reason why she's so crazy and could win a fight so well, but they're also the reason why she's so frail. …Am I starting to sound like you?"

"Then we'll be the loudest," I say, trying to figure out how I can possibly be loud.

"Actually, no, I found out that the softest-voiced spirits get the most notice. That's because they have a good choice of words and Silva listens to them most often because she finds the loudest spirits annoying. Oh, and if you're wondering why I know this, it's because I was in her mind long enough to realize," Rin explains.

"How do we get out of here?" I decide to ask.

Rin frowns. "That's what I'm trying to—"

Right on cue, suddenly a bright white light blocks out everything else, and I'm falling, then plunging, and suddenly I hit the ground.

—~'~—

"Well, you're back," rasps a voice familiar to me now.

I raise my head and study Silva's eyes. A vision of the woman I knew has begun to form in my mind, and I'm trying to find any likeness. Perhaps there is, but they are drowned in what appears to be a mask of indifference, insanity, and cruelty.

"I couldn't let you stay in Lily's mind too long," Silva says, with the same infuriating softness. "It would make me quite impatient."

"Why didn't you attack us when we were in Lily's mind?" I ask.

Silva smiles. "Such ignorance. Don't you know? It would do no difference to attack your mortal body. I cannot kill it, how many times I damage it. When your soul comes back, all wounds automatically heal—except for, of course, the ones I have inflicted upon you before you have gone into someone else's mind. It is only when your soul is _in_ your body, can I do anything."

Another piece of the puzzle fits.

I nudge Rin. "Rin, do you want to accompany me?" I whisper.

"I don't have anything else to do, Len."

"But we could die."

"We could," she agrees.

"_You_ could die."

"So could you."

"So we'll be doing it?"

"Anything you say."

"You have a knife?"

"I'm ready when you are," Rin smiles and shows me the glinting knife Luka gave her.

With that, manic fire builds up in my veins and I will this rush of adrenaline to never end.

* * *

**Well _that_ was a long chapter. But it feels good to be writing again, and I am working on the next chapter. My eyes are tired... ;n;**

**In any case, whoa, look at this beauty! For some reason, I was thinking about _The Mark of Athena_ while I was writing it. I don't know why. Maybe it's the stuff about fighting. I'm weird.  
**

**Thank you for reading and/or reviewing!  
**


	11. Rin VI

**Spent the entire day working on this chapter, rereading and editing and rereading again. I must say, I'm pleased with the end result.**

* * *

**Rin VI**

_I'm drained out._

"_Rin—Rin…, they're saying," but I cannot speak._

_So much has been lost._

_I'm broken inside, but I must keep going. We must keep going._

_.:. It's the first time I've really looked at Len. He has beautiful bluegreen eyes, and soft golden hair that touches his shoulders. I realize…I have lost Haku, who I never realized that was someone truly to be admired. No, I cannot lose him… .:._

Silva is fast. She deflects my crazy knife-slashing very easily. But I cannot let her dagger slice any part of me, so that's double work on my part. I don't know what Len is doing, and I can't pause long enough to care.

Hopefully, he's attacking on the other side of Silva, although I don't know what he'd attack with.

He should be doing something useful and productive. What, I don't know, but I trust him. Somehow, we have to obtain Silva's dagger and stab ourselves, willing ourselves into Silva's mind, and continue from there. It's a shame I don't know how to break the shell between us and the others. And the spirits of the Sins have disappeared. Sometimes I wish Mikuo could be here; I don't know whether he'll be listening to Silva or us or just be neutral, but we could use some of his help.

"It's no use, girl," Silva says as iron clangs on some sort of magical element. "I am almost invincible with combat. You cannot win against me."

This shouldn't be so easy, anyway. But I'm not planning on dueling to the death, because I'd be the one dead. And Silva's saying that while she's snarling coldly at me, as in _Try a new move on me, and if you beat me, you will be _dead_ by the time the night is over._

When _will_ the night be over, anyway?

—~'~—

"Rin!"

I blink, nearly getting hit by Silva's vicious fighting. Looking up, I see Len clinging to Silva, dangerously close to her. He reaches for her dagger, but unless I come in, he can't do anything other than cling on Silva's arm and try his best to not be shaken off.

"Len—"

"I…Rin—just—the—knife—call—Luka…for…_help—_"

Len is obviously trying to tell me something, but he's having difficulty because of the silvery magical strands that have been enclosed on his throat. Silva's eyes glitter and she smiles treacherously. Len gags and chokes, trying in a desperate attempt to pry them off his throat. Silva's smile turns into a snarl and she looks away from me, to Len, as if to finish him off. Her fingers grasp his throat, and the blood drains from Len's face.

I can't move. I watch, in grotesque fascination. It's like the times when one is watching something being killed, slowly and painfully. One wants to look away, but cannot.

"_R—in_—!" Len tries again, his eyes pinned on the dagger.

That's right.

In that moment of distraction, I grab Silva's free hand, prying her fingers away from the handle of the dagger. Then, in one fluid swipe, Len and I enter Silva's mind for a little rendezvous.

—~'~—

"We…did it," Len gasps. There are red marks around his neck, where the silvery strands have gripped. He's trembling, probably from the excitement of what just happened, but he gives me a shaky smile, and leans slightly on me as we run through space.

"What was our plan again?" I ask.

"Oh…the plan. It was defeating Silva with thoughts. You do know where to go, right?"

The voices in Silva's head come back. There are snippets of songs, songs of madness and insanity, dancing in her head. I recognize most of them, but one is still undefined, the one with the desperate voice of Wrath. The sound there is unmeasured, but yet it is not simply noise. It has a rhythm that is hard to keep track of, and the moment I hear it, the fragments of that song disappears. Could it be that Wrath is not fully stable yet, even after all of these years?

So that's why. Silva took from Wrath because it was the seventh, the last one created, not quite needed as much as the other Sins. She saw fit to take from her.

Well, that makes sense.

"Rin?" Len asks.

"I think I know where to go," I say, but I'm still distracted. "Len, do you know where the other six Sins can go?"

"An eternal resting place that wouldn't get them too bitter and it wouldn't cage them up," Len suggests. "But…how do you create _that_?"

A plan is forming in my mind. If we can destroy Silva with thoughts, then we must be able to create something that is a place where Sins can interact with each other without harming mortals, if thoughts are that powerful. The other six Sins are okay even if we destroy Silva. But Wrath still has to be protected for a while, especially since she's still very weak from Silva's extraction of her power. It connects together quite well.

"Let's go to the quietest part of her mind," Len suggests, seemingly realizing that I'm only listening a bit.

"I don't think that's possible." I have to shout over an unusually loud spirit which has just wandered by. "The most secluded part might work, but the quietest part is impossible to reach. I know where the secluded part is. Come on."

Before Len could reply, Wrath's voice muffles the rest of the voices in Silva's head. _"Please! –I…I can't—! Let me go home!"_

"…Gumi?" Len and I look at each other in amazement.

"Silva uses her victims to hold her Sins," Len says slowly. "So that means…every Sin is one of her victims. They're probably mad at her, too—"

Just as he's starting to unravel the mystery, a pretty green-haired woman wanders by, but her image flickers from a young girl to a teenage girl, back to the lady which she is. Her eyes are wild, and she looks as if she wants to flee. _"Mother, no! ...I–I mean, Master, I…"_

"'Mother'?" Len and I stare at each other again.

"Gumi!" I blurt, reaching out to pull at her blouse, but my hand passes right through her. Nonetheless, I have her attention. "Is Silva your mother?"

She turns and blinks, her picture flickering again. She stares for a moment. _"Rin?"_

"We're in Silva's mind," Len offers. "We need some—" he shuts up when I poke him.

"_It isn't hard to figure out that Master is my mother, is it?"_ Gumi says sadly. _"I'm sorry I inhabited your mind, Len. I needed somewhere else, a place other than Master's hectic mind."_

"You're Wrath, aren't you?"

"_The last Sin created."_ Gumi verifies our guesses. _"She created me by a mistake…I've been calling her Master ever since. She's less a mother to me than any other Sin would be, though Envy—the woman you call Luka—is generous to offer her friendship. I—no! I'm supposed to be…angry…"_ Gumi trails off, obviously not happy with her role. _"I'm just the fifth wheel."_

"I thought you were the seventh," I start to say, but Len pokes me back.

"She means she's useless," Len explains.

"Gumi, do you want to see her destroyed?" I venture.

For a moment, Gumi fits the character of Wrath. A fiery spark ignites in her peridot eyes, but it's hard to tell whether it's of agreement or anger, although she looks like she's trying hard to not reveal her feelings.

"_How are you planning to kill Master?" _Gumi asks.

I take that as a yes. "We're planning to use…thoughts," expecting her to laugh. Instead, she nods.

"_Thoughts are what killed me, too."_

"Where is Luka?" Len asks.

"_Envy,"_ Gumi corrects him. _"She's still off sending spirits. Envy has a specialty for that."_

"Do you know where we can get to a place where Silva can hear our thoughts easily?"

"_That's easy. Just stay right here."_

—~'~—

"I don't understand," I say, pressing my index fingers together. "This shouldn't be _this_ easy. Surely this is…a trap? Silva shouldn't be this easily defeated."

"_She is not,"_ Gumi supplies. _"Getting a place to make your thoughts heard is easy. Killing her is hard."_

"Okay." Len gingerly straightens himself. "So…who starts?"

—~'~—

It definitely is harder than I expected.

Then again, I had expected it to be hard.

I try to think happy thoughts. My memories seem to flicker in front of me, then disappear into smoke. It's hard not to feel the ominous air pressing against one again. I can't hold a memory in front of me for more than two seconds. Len could do it a little longer than me, and Gumi's is a colorful shower mist that I can almost imagine myself in. It's as if Silva has prepared for this. It's as if she's taunting us.

We hadn't even made a plan for what we were going to do if we are trapped.

I'm ready to give up. It's something about the air—

"_If you give up, what will Silva do?"_ Gumi/Wrath breathes in my ear. I blink, turning to stare at her. She smiles and winks, her misty form shimmering. I block out the chaotic sounds of Silva's mind and stare at the air in front of me.

_What is it that you want?_ I ask Silva's mind, doubtful that an answer would come.

It does.

In the form of five Sins.

—~'~—

"'_What is it that you want?'"_ Vanity repeats, her icy blue eyes gazing into mine. _"How amusing. Are you asking me, dear?"_ The way she looks at me sends a chill down my back, although the feeling is not particularly unpleasant. She almost looks sad.

I know her voice. It's the voice of the talkative spirit who annoyed me with her chatter.

"_Made to serve for eternity…"_ Pride whispers.

"_It does not fulfill,"_ Lust says, wrapping a strand of silken purple hair around his middle finger.

"_We are bound,"_ agrees Greed. That's when I notice the chains around all of their wrists and ankles. Greed turns an azure gaze to Gumi. _"Only she is not bound, and that is because she is so new, so untainted, such an early death."_

"_For living…after Ssssilva,"_ hisses Sloth. _"Masssster…of…Hell'ssss Graveyard…the Ssecond."_

Len inches near me. I can tell he's just as nervous as I am.

"What if," I suggest, "you help us, and then we'll make you a final resting place where you don't have to face this kind of pain anymore?"

Sloth raises her eyebrows. She's like a memory, and not as solid as Gumi. Her stormy gray-green eyes changes color each glance. Leisurely, Sloth reaches out to gently hold my wrists, like an older woman to a little girl. She, for some reason, looks quite a lot like Miku—not exactly Miku, but a lot like her. Her touch is a bit surprising, and makes my skin tingle, but it is not a bad feeling, kind of like the chills Vanity gives me. _"We…would like that, excsssssept…"_

"_The binding cuts off what we can do," _Greed says. He looks again at Gumi. _"Wrath…she is the only one that can help you."_

"What about Lu — Envy?" Len remarks.

"_She issss only free outssside of Ssssilva'ssssss mind…"_ Sloth's haunting voice replies, a bit distractedly.

Not very helpful.

Although the Sins truly deserve it, I feel sad for the eternal punishment they must suffer. "We'll do it afterwards."

Sloth only smiles, her beautiful bluegreen eyes lingering a bit longer in my memories as she—and the rest of the Sins—fade into darkness.

—~'~—

Wait.

Bluegreen eyes.

I look at Len's eyes.

They are the exact same color.

"Len," I breathe, "I think I've just found the woman you loved."

—~'~—

"My grandmother?"

"It must be Miku's mother. After all, the legends say that Silva's adoptive daughter—Gretel, I think?—betrayed her. But then she gave birth to her own daughter, which would of course be your grandmother. Your grandmother must have known about this chain, and she then made your mother, and then your mother made you. It makes perfect sense."

"_Impressive reasoning,"_ Gumi agrees.

Meeting all of the Sins, I'm now filled with hope again.

_We can do this._

—~'~—

There are so many more feelings other than that ominous one. Loneliness, sadness, shame, worthlessness all mixed into one. Fiery feelings of revenge, flickering shades of blue and black, representing Silva's heartache. Yet, those feelings are all coated over with an oily sheen of revenge and insanity. As I stand in Silva's mind, this much becomes clear to me—she can never be brought back to the way she was. The clean, untarnished way.

"Goodbye, Silva," I whisper as images begin filling my mind.

What could Silva possibly want, other than the jug of water? Torturing us, as a cat with mice? Forever cannibalizing to fill the gaping emptiness in her heart? My life? Immortality? Not one of these is the key to what might make Silva finally purely happy. _I_ cannot provide most of them. Yet I give them up.

_Torture me. Eat me. Stab me over and over. Try to gain my chance to immortality._

It matters not. I'm like Gumi in some ways. Superfluous, given to another family.

And I'm still loved. I still love.

"Take me, Silva."

A small pinpoint of white light in front of my eyes is expanding rapidly. I connect that light to what brought me back to the real world, with Len sometimes, without Len sometimes. Silva's raspy voice suddenly blasts into my ears—_Stop! Get out!_ She sounds frantic, unlike the Silva which has maintained composed up to now.

Happy thoughts flood my mind. Spending time with Lily, Haku, Mother, Father, Len, Miku, and everybody else. Laughing together with them. Discovering.

As I think, I notice vaguely that I'm tired. My knees knock against each other, and I can barely keep my eyes open. My arms tremble. I can no longer see Len or Gumi. I still hope against hope. The roar of blood in my ears nearly drowns out everything.

The white light envelopes me.

In a split second, I'm falling through space.

Silva's scream merges with my own.

—~'~—

I'm exhausted and drained, but I manage to make my way over to Silva's writhing body. She looks shrunken and helpless. I spot her dagger lying nearby, its vicious sheen reduced to a dull glow. Silva makes a retching sound, and I shove the dagger down her throat—I'm not sure why, but it felt like the right thing to do at the moment. It couldn't have harmed her: it disintegrated the moment it left my hands. Silva shakes.

Dawn breaks with an array of blinding, colorful colors.

Thousands of tiny cracks line the air around me. My lungs feel like they're about to burst, and then suddenly the shell shatters.

Mother rushes toward me, her trembling hands wiping away the exhausted tears from my eyes. Lily is quick to follow, and Father and Oliver close in around me. I shake my head, pointing to where Len is. He's in worse shape than me. Either he tried harder, or his illness didn't heal yet. My lips are dry and cracked, and I can't say what I want to say, but Mother understands and hurries to help Miku. Lily runs to get a cloth, and Oliver reaches out to hold my hand. Father insists on sitting me up, but finally he goes out to get the doctor.

Gumi flickers in front of me. _Thank you._

"I didn't…create…the place…"

_Oh, but you did, Rin._ Gumi smiles. _By draining Silva of her power, you've obliviously made that place. Thank you,_ she repeats.

Luka appears next to her as well, lugging Mikuo along. "Let's go," she says, smiling at Gumi, and the other Sins who have come.

"Wait," Mikuo says. "I must talk."

"It turns out that Mikuo was trying to find a way to break Silva's hold, too," Luka whispers to me. She raises her voice again. "But Mikuo, how are you going to get back to the place we spirits rest?"

"I'll find a way." Mikuo looks troubled, and suddenly, I realize, aged. "I'll stay."

"Well, I hope you won't get lost on the way." Luka turns back to the Sins. Her image flickers for a moment, revealing another woman who looks similar yet very different, and then she's back to the ghostly form I know her better as. "Gumi, you know the way better than me." Gumi smiles shyly.

_I cannot go either._

"Sloth?" Luka asks in surprise.

Sloth moves next to Mikuo, who also looks surprised that she's there. _I have…causssssed a lot of…confusion. I must…sssspeak…to the dear family memberssss…I have left behind._

"What about Silva?" I ask quietly. I can't get my voice any louder than that; it's dry and cracked as my lips. Luckily, Luka hears me and points to the lump on the ground Silva is. Silva has stopped shaking, and a hand that's only a little more than skin and bones is the only sign of her, along with her long teal hair.

"She cannot be helped, Rin," Luka says quietly, with some degree of pity in her voice. Nonetheless, I make a small struggle to get onto my feet and stumble over to her.

She looks small and shrunken, something I never noticed before. Maybe it's because of the way she held herself and the way she always seemed dominant and tall. Not anymore. I reach down to touch her hand, and something brushes against my outstretched hand.

A leatherback book.

Memories?

_Memories._

It must have fallen out of Silva's cloak as she fell.

I run my finger along the spine. It looks so old, yet so new. A book of contrasts. I flip it to a page, and it's full of writing, writing I could not read at the moment, but writing I could learn to read—

"Take…it," gasps a voice from under the long teal tresses and hood.

She's still alive, I realize with horror.

An icy claw grips my heart. I inch forward a little to take another look.

It doesn't seem like she has a lot more moments, though. I hope that is true, and yet some part of me feels sad for her.

"Take it," Silva repeats, raising her head slightly to look at me.

I'm taken aback by what I see in her eyes.

Not just the emotions I've felt in her mind, I also see some I haven't sensed in Silva's eyes…Loss and regret. Little will to start over. There's also a fiery intensity. And her eyes are bluegreen, just like Sloth's, Len's, or Miku's. Just for that moment, I appreciate how beautiful they are, and how beautiful she could have—or would have—been. For just a heartbeat, we stare at each other.

Then she smiles softly and her head drops back onto the floor.

—~'~—

I reach forward tentatively and touch Silva's hand. The skin is dry and papery. I can't tell anything from there.

Although I'm unwilling to, I thrust a hand under her body anyway, feeling for a faint heartbeat, anything to tell me that she's still alive. I keep expecting spidery tendrils to engulf me any second, but that doesn't come. It's simply cold skin that sends shivers crawling along my spine. Again, they're kind of like the chills Vanity gives me, although they're not the same thing.

_She's dead._

Without thinking, I take off the curtains still hanging on the windows and drape it across her body. Then I rip a piece of fabric from my frock and lay it over her eyes.

She would have been a wonderful person, if only she had used all of her cleverness for good. Yet she was driven mad by greed.

I bend down, whispering into her ear. "Rest well, Silva."

—~'~—

I approach Len. He's awake, and insisting that he's fine, except Mother, Miku, and Lily are still worrying themselves over him. I walk between Mother and Lily and simply show him the book. It takes him a moment to register, but his eyes widen with shock.

"Can you teach me to read?" I ask.

Len nods.

In a few days, I will be able to read Silva's thoughts.

There is still much cleaning to be done, but at least we're finally together, and safe.

For the first time ever, the deep gray fog lifts from over Superbia, and over the other towns as well.

* * *

**No, it's not done yet ^w^~ This will end in...two chapters, I believe. The next chapter will be a summing up, and then the one after it will be the epilogue. ****I tried to make defeating Silva a hard thing to do, but I guess I didn't do that well. I'm terrible at this kind of thing. ^^;  
**

**I listened to Kokoro sung by VipTenchou, Kogeinu, Che:Sakurai, Lon, and Hitori. Check it out.  
**

**Thank you for reading/reviewing!  
**

**~Unyielding Wish  
**


	12. Len VI

**Len VI**

_I fill my lungs with the sweet, fresh air._

_My mother's eyes cloud over, and I know that she wants to tell me something._

_I am listening, but I cannot tear my eyes away from the scenery before me._

_The mountains are such a pretty place._

_/ I blush whenever I think of Rin. Can I be in love? I cannot word my feelings for her. But will she love me back, or must this be a one-sided love? _\\\

After Mom is done with strangling me with her fierce hugs, and making sure that I'm alright, she tells me, "First, let's all take a well-deserved nap. Like Rin," glancing in a rather affectionate way at said girl, who is already asleep. Her brother is sitting with her, her head on his lap and patting her hair. He's clutching the leatherbound book that Rin showed me, feeling the ridges and the curves and slants of the letters etched onto the book cover, but not being able to read them. Then he bends down to say something softly in her ear, and Rin stirs, smiling slightly. It suddenly occurs to me that I've never heard his voice before.

"What do the mountains look like, Mom?" I ask.

She blinks. "The mountains?"

"Are they…pretty?"

"The mountains, pretty?" Mom thinks for a moment, then nods slowly, as if she's pondering it. "I've heard tales of the beauty of the sunrises on Montem Decus. 'The sun rises in between the twin peaks,' they say. I've never been there." She runs her fingers through my hair, absently staring into the distance. "Your uncle Mikuo has, though. He never told me much about it, but he did say…it was enchanting."

A shimmery, ghostly being wordlessly steps to behind Mom. I raise my eyebrows at Mikuo; Mom is still looking out the window. He shakes his head, pressing a finger to his lips, as if to say, _Go on._

"Do you love…" I hesitate. "Do you love your brother?"

"You mean Mikuo? Of course I love him, Len. He's my brother."

"But his being your brother doesn't mean you must love him."

"No," Mom agrees. "But he was…striking…in a brotherly way. He was excessively overprotective, but that was what I wanted of him, although I never admitted it to him, even when he was on his deathbed. How prideful I was then." She laughs a little. "I depended on him to protect me. I just didn't realize it when it was too late." Mom's long teal hair falls over her face as she picks at an invisible piece of dandruff on my hair. "Your father, he was not a bad man, but he charmed me. I fell for him more than I should have. I knew I was drowning in intoxication, but I couldn't…I couldn't resist. Before I knew it, I grew too attached to him…too greedy, like Silva. When he died, it was a great blow to my pride and I—…

"But that is how all of us are, yes? Now, Len, that's enough. You should catch some sleep. Maybe I should as w—"

_Miku,_ whispers a familiar voice.

Mom whips around. She stares from Sloth to Mikuo, from Mikuo to Sloth. There is a long, wordless, awkward silence.

"Miku," Mikuo says, his voice choked with emotion. "I missed you, my little sister." **(A/N: Geez I was blushing while I was writing this, it is so cheesy.)**

It takes Mom a few moments to register the fact that Mikuo is there, _real_, as a ghost, and so is her mother. She sits there, dumbfounded, before she lets out a strangled whimper and reaches out to touch Mikuo. Sloth smiles to herself. Mom can't really touch Mikuo, of course—he's just a living mist, an echo—but in that strange moment I know something that has gone amiss between them has just been set right.

—~'~—

Sloth pulls me aside. Her quiet eyes, so like and yet unlike Silva's, radiate a wise, but sleepy presence. _I am ssssorry…for the confusssion…I have causssssed your family_.

"It's okay," I say, finding nothing else to reply with.

Sloth nods. _I…cannot say my feelingsss…for you, but live blessssedly._

With a smile that seemed to have popped out of my memories, she disappears, and all that is left of her is a wisp of teal hair.

—~'~—

I replay last night's fantastic events in my head. As I get to the part where Silva shows us the dead bodies, though, I suddenly remember Galaco.

In the excitement of everything, I'd forgotten about her. Guiltily, I remember how we just left her in the living room, along with Sonika and Akiko.

My legs are incredibly sore, but I manage to get sway onto my feet anyway. Mom has finished her conversation with Mikuo, and when she hears me, she quickly turns around. "There," I say, pointing to where I think—where I _know_—they are.

The three women are just where we left them.

_What am we supposed to do with _this_?_

If we show hthem to the priest, and tell the truth, he'd certainly think we're crazy. I stand there for a moment, thinking, before I go upstairs again to fetch three blankets.

The entire house is quiet now, and my footsteps sound loud to even my own ears. As soon as I get to the upper floor, the voices on the lower floor turn to soft murmurs. I enter Mom's room, and I notice her sewing basket. There are unused pieces of cloth there, cloth she simply collects just in case of an accident. I snatch three long strips of them, and proceed downstairs again; I remember how Rin had done it last night. Carefully I lay the blankets on each of their bodies, and the cloth on each of their eyes. After I'm finished, I step back and look at them.

They look dead.

They _are_ dead.

"Len," Mom says quietly. "You don't have to do this for them."

"It feels right to, anyway." We look at each other for a moment.

Finally Mom nods. "Do you think you and Rin could wield shovels? Later in the day, we'll drive to the cemetery to bury them. After that, you may teach Rin to read."

The day passes in this fashion.

—~'~—

As another dawn ascends, I awake to the unlikely sound of a bird's soft cooing. Looking outside, in the dim twilight, I see silhouettes of slender, living trees—a complete contrast to what they were before. The one across from our house, near the shop, is budding, and a sweet perfume fills the air, tingling with excitement. A crow caws. A pack of geese fly in a V-formation across the sky. And the sky: the sky is gray, but the most beautiful gray I've seen in my entire life. It's not a flat gray, but a gray-blue, the color that tells me a blue sky is coming. It's been quite a while since I've woken so early.

I sit there for a moment. The memories of the day before yesterday are already fading, becoming dim, getting tucked into boxes that I would not open again unless I wanted to, leaving to grow cobwebs. They're real, though. They're what actually happened. I remember the less important details, the details that would most likely not be written in history scrolls—walking, reading things to Rin, _eating_, spending some time together. We've influenced that ourselves.

I feel my cheeks grow warm as I think about Rin, and for a brief moment I wonder if she likes me back.

There aren't many people she associates with on the mountaintop, right? She already told me about Rei Kagene, but he's too old for her. Other than her father, Oliver, Dell, and Rei, I should be the only male she knows.

With some difficulty, I tug open the window. A fresh breeze wafts in, along with the early summer's blossoms. There is a spindly tree leaning against the house, and although I have to lean some distance out of the window to reach it, I pluck a peach blossom. Its petals are light and delicate, creamy whitish pink. The center is a much darker hue but still pink. I have to put it to my nose to inhale the fragrance, but that's well enough.

—~'~—

I stand in front of Rin's room, shared with Lily—and the rest of her family since yesterday. I've picked a few more blossoms, and I'm careful not to fold any of them, so they stay sweet and whole. My cheeks are flaming as I raise my hand to knock, but I know not of any other way of saying, "I love you."

However, suddenly I'm aware of the conversation inside. I press my ear to the door, feeling slightly guilty that I have to eavesdrop, but I don't want to just walk in.

"…Why don't…you just say?" Rin is asking.

There is an apologetic sigh on Aoki Lapis's part. "Rin, I'm sorry. I didn't want you to think you were unwanted, which I guess you are thinking right now. I loved you immediately as a daughter the moment you turned your blue eyes to me—cliché, I know, but that's the truth. I didn't want you to feel revenge, feel the need that you need to get even with Riliane and Venomania. Riliane is not bad, Rin. She was just controlled by Vanity, and became seduced by Venomania. Venomania isn't either—well, maybe he is…You see what people can do out of loneliness, Rin? I never wanted you to feel that, so I always painted the image of a protective mother, but some things I guess you just discover by accident."

Lily adds, "You've stayed long enough to be part of our family. There's nothing wrong with…just being adop—"

"Rin, Lily means that we all love you!" Aoki Lapis's voice almost sounds like she's going to cry happy tears.

"Mother, Father, Lily, just stop keeping secrets from me—_ow_!" Rin laughs. They've probably hugged her all at the same time, and that theory is probably right, because what Rin just said is followed with, "It's okay, get off of me," although there is a smile in her voice.

All this time, I've forgotten I was standing there, but a feeling of mortification wells up in me. I've just…_eavesdropped_…on a family moment…I should have just walked away…

I'd ceased to remember how happy but extremely cheesy families could be, but suddenly I recall my own father and Mom and I, in front of the fireplace. Mom had been alive and laughing that time. My father's face is only a faint thought now, a wisp of memory that I can never catch, but I try again and again. I was in a crib, but I heard snippets of conversation that I understood. Every few words, they'd laugh, and although I didn't understand what the joke was, I'd laugh along.

I lay the blossoms at the door of Rin's room, smiling irrationally. Why I'm smiling, I don't know, but perhaps it's because the family feeling has rubbed off on me?

—~'~—

"Len—_Len!_" Rin catches up to me as I walk out the door, map in hand, in search of the library. She's breathless from running, and her hair is tousled. It's as if she's ready to ask me something, but my mind works quickly.

"Do you want to go to the cemetery?" I ask.

"Why the cemetery?" Rin follows me as I study the map, walking in what I remember is the right way.

"I want to pay my respects to my father."

"Your fa—oh." She seems to remember that he's dead.

There are some pink carnations which I'm holding. They're beautiful, but they have their meaning.*****

"Len," Rin says. "I need to ask you something."

"Ask away." My heart races again.

"I…you were the one who put the peach blossoms there, weren't you?"

I feel myself blush again, and my throat is dry of answers. Rin laughs, but I can see a light dusting of pink on her cheeks too. Her fingers are intertwined with mine, and I could feel her pulse, thumping, against my skin.

—~'~—

Rin is quiet, though, the entire time as I lay the carnations at the foot of my father's grave. The stone marker is worn from years of touch from my mother, but it's the first time since I've ever even brushed my hand against it. A swallow lands nearby, surveying me with bright, beady black eyes. Rin's attention is briefly diverted as she runs her hand over the swallow's downy feathers. It isn't protesting; it almost seems to be enjoying her touch.

I look back at the grave. The carnations, the beautiful carved marker. But something's missing.

There are some wild white clovers growing nearby, as if watching me. They're weeds, but they're beautiful weeds. I pull two of them out of the ground, and lay them there as well, but first I pick a petal from one of the white clovers.

"_I will never forget you._"

The lone petal arcs up, flying into the distance. I tilt my head. The sun's rays stretch themselves across the sky; a bird flies high. A wind whispers a song through the trees. And at my feet, a pleasurable feeling stirs, and my insides fill with warmth.

"Come on, Rin," I say. The next words I choose very carefully, giving them double meaning. "Let's go home."

Her eyes sparkle. She gets it.

"Let's go home," she repeats, and we head away from the cemetery.

* * *

*** - The pink carnation's meaning is "I will never forget you," or so I heard.**

**Not bad for an ending, no? Next chapter will be the epilogue. I haven't stuck Teto in here yet, have I? There now, that's the only clue you'll get from me for the epilogue. I can be very evil sometimes, but never fear, it will come sooner or later.  
**

**Okay, I spent about 2 or 3 hours on this. It's a big wow, especially since for the last chapter I spent the entire day. XD  
**

**~Unyielding Wish  
**


	13. Epilogue: Teto I

**Epilogue: Teto I: "Someday"**

_ .:. fluttering .:.  
_

_/ like a leaf in the breeze_ \

～_aimlessly_～

– _small wishes. _–

A weathered old man bends over a flat, wide branch with a knife, whittling it to sharp perfection. The creases in his sun-browned skin signal the passing of time. His olive eyes, and light, bleached blonde hair contrasts greatly with the rest of his body. Veins, deeply apparent, run the length from his fingertips to his elbows. His knuckles are knotted and lumpy. His hands are rough and calloused. Even in his stooped position, I can see the muscles rippling along his back, a sign of his hard work over the years.

I sneak up to him, trying to surprise him, but before I get more than a step forward, he smiles.

"Come here, Teto."

I give up my position and walk over to him. This old man is my grandfather. I wait beside him, as I watch Grandfather take his time. Chips of wood fall to the grass under our feet, until it is finely coated with sawdust. Finally, Grandfather pats the space on the grass next to him. "Sit, Teto."

When you're with Grandfather, you have to remember to be patient. Sometimes, you don't even need to remember to be. It's something about him, something in the air around him, that immediately makes you relax, watch him. It blocks questions out. For a few minutes, you just sit there, thinking, thinking of the things you can't yet grasp but are so near.

It's almost midday. We're on a hill, and in the distance I can see the remains of the house of a brother and sister. Montem Decus stands, still regal, still majestic, a green-and-brown smudge against the ragged blue sky. We're almost a mile away from Grandfather's home, the house where Mother grew up in, but Grandfather seems to like this spot. It's where the sun warms the grass pleasantly, not too hot or too cold. Goats like it here too, for he brought his two goats with him, and they're standing around grazing, keeping their distance. Goats don't like to be right next to humans.

"Grandfather," I finally venture. "Can you tell me the story of how Mother and Father met?"

"Ah, that story." His olive-green eyes cloud over, and I could almost see him being whisked back fifteen years. "Yes, that story, how they met and married, and had you and your brother six years later."

"No, it's…not that. It's another story, but they're still in it." I look hopefully at Grandfather. "Mother and Father speak of it sometimes. Sometimes they sound sad, sometimes they sound relieved, and sometimes they just seem like they're daydreaming. It was what they call The Period of Great Change…you know, in the books."

Grandfather nods. "So they taught you to read." He begins to carve on the wood.

"Yes," I say, wondering why everyone is so elusive about this subject. I'm eight. I'm old enough to know. "Is it…was it bad? But it couldn't have been bad, right? Mother and Father met through that."

"Teto, it _was_ bad," Grandfather says softly. "It was terrible."

"But how could it have been terrible if they met and were brought together?"

"Sometimes, terrible things can birth a new thing, something rare, but precious." Grandfather skillfully makes intricate designs on the branch with his knife. "Your grandmother, for instance. You were still in your mother's stomach when your grandmother died. I was almost consumed by sadness until your parents reminded me of what happened, and what could have happened. These terrible happenings make our presence wise, Teto."

"Yes," I say.

"Teto, these happenings…they didn't not occur at a price." Grandfather gestures toward the ruins of the house. "The people who lived in this house, they were strong, likable people. They were caught in the happenings, just like your mother and father were. However, the sister died at the hands of a woman of corruption, and the brother was driven mad by it. It all relies on decisions, and these decisions rely on us. It is not only until one experiences it does one finally realize how fragile everyone is."

"But…Grandfather," I say. The seed of impatience forms a sprout. "How does that relate to the story?"

"Much as you hate this, you truly are not old enough to understand," Grandfather replies quietly. I look over at his carving, and I could see a girl with long ringlets begin to take shape, sitting next to an old man under a sunny sky. A lot of other images crowd the one I notice…A dream cloud with a girl and boy reaching out to each other, holding hands, the same girl holding a dagger and running her fingers along the length of it, a boy leaning on the girl, as if he had just learned to walk. There are a lot more that aren't finished, blurry and undefined. Grandfather turns sharply, as if suddenly noticing me, and smiles, giving me the carving. "A load of memories, my life is. This is just a start. Finish it for me, Teto."

"But Grandfather," I protest. "I don't know what's going on."

"That's why you'll have to keep it on your shelf until you hear the story. Your mother and father are getting ready to tell you, Teto," and gently, he brushes a dark pink ringlet out of my face. "Someday, you will know."

"Someday," I repeat. The word sounds so distant, and yet so warm and welcoming. "Someday."

"Yes, someday." His old olive eyes caress my face. "That day, I will teach you how to carve, and you will have a story on the stick itself."

I stay silent, not sure how to respond. A hawk soars and dives for the unfortunate lamb. Pine trees wave in the always recurring breeze, and a spicy smell wafts in. Deep in the shadows of the caves far away, mountain cats prowl. Below us, the landscape of the seven towns are spread out like a map, but even though they have such grandeur, those towns are only mere pinpricks on the ground to us. At least to me. Faraway. Heedless of the grass stains on my long skirt, I arch my back, palms pressing into the sod, gazing at the sky. A cloud floats by, shaped like the white kitty that Mother used to have, named Iana.

Then Mother's call for me reverberates over the landscape, and suddenly the moment is broken. Grandfather pats me gently on the back. "Now run along, Teto. Keep it in mind…someday."

I leap over the grass, clutching the branch to my chest, my skirt billowing out behind me.

_Someday…someday,_ the wind seems to whisper.

The wood in my hands almost seems to be breathing—like a baby that has not yet been born. Once I hear, once I _know_ the story, I will make it come alive.

"I promise, Grandfather," I say aloud softly.

* * *

**I decided to update a week early...**

**Well, now that's done. ); I'm not a big fan of endings, but the story has to come to a conclusion. **

**I'm working on a GakuLuka story. Also a MikuKai one. It'll get published, depends on my mood to see which one comes first.  
Keep watching～  
**

**Thank you for reading/reviewing!  
**

**~Unyielding Wish  
**


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